Journey of Awakening: Magically Delirious
by The Dragon Lover
Summary: 'People who didn't finish their college degree should not have to contemplate the fabric of space-time in relation to alternate universes and their places in them.' -It's not everyday you wake up in an entirely different world. Unfortunately, I didn't get much of a choice in the matter. (Self-insert fic, parallels Perfect Oblivion's "Journey of Awakening: Through a Dragon's Eyes".)
1. I'm definitely not in Kansas anymore

_Self-insert-transported-to-Awakening-world fic? Check. Terrible sense of humor? Check. Drama and romance inbound? Check._

 _Yep, everything looks good to go! Start 'er up!_

 _(This'll be an interesting experiment.)_

 _More seriously though, I've been wanting to explore some concepts brought up in player-transported-to-FE:A fanfics. When Perfect Oblivion suggested we do some ourselves, I decided, "Well, why not? It'll be fun!" And although I'm a goofball, this fic won't all be fun and games. War is still war, kiddies._

 _Written parallel with Perfect Oblivion's fic "Journey to Awakening: Through a Dragon's Eyes." And perhaps other users' fics, in the future. (I'm looking at YOU. You two know who you are. Mwah, dragon kisses!)_

* * *

.

 _Cold._ I was really cold. So cold.

My bedroom fan was louder than normal, and seemed to whistle like the mountain winds.

 _I should... turn that down. Or off._

I wanted to get up, but for some reason despite how uncomfortable I was, I couldn't find the motivation to. I was shivering uncontrollably, and someone was talking around me. Had that woken me up? Or was it that insufferable cold?

My bed felt wet, too... just what was going on?

But my head was heavy, and as rough hands yanked me into someone's arms I only had the strength to cry out once before the world returned to darkness.

* * *

Someone shook me. I whined, and it happened once more but rougher. Coughing, I squinted at the one responsible, realizing I didn't recognize that ugly mug. _His teeth are rotten,_ came the groggy thought, and tailing that was a grimace. _So is his breath!_

"Oy, she's fin'lly awake."

" 'Bout time."

I couldn't move my hands. Something coarse held them together. Panic kickstarted my brain, and my eyes snapped fully open.

"W-where am I," I breathed, gaze darting around a dimly lit room.

Was I in a log cabin? Where the hell was there a log cabin in my neck of the woods? Was I _in_ the woods? And why was I here instead of in my bed, or asleep at the bar counter at work?

"Calm down, girlie," sneered Ugly Mug. "Yer lucky we brought you to a nice, cozy shack, or ya woulda froze to death in the snow!"

It had snowed? _Winter came and went, didn't it?_ That had to be a freak accident of nature. Unless I was currently in a log cabin in the mountains, but I think the closest ones were about six hours' drive west. Or was it northwest? _Megan, you really need to get a handle on geography._

A shaft of light blinded me for a moment as the door quickly opened and closed, letting in a third figure. "They're gettin' antsy out there," he declared. I could hardly see anyone's faces in this candlelight.

Ugly grunted, then turned to me impatiently. "So, one 'f our boys says ya might know wha' this is, considerin' yer pretty clothes."

I glanced down, alarmed to see I was in my underwear. "Eep!" I squirmed, trying to cover myself up without the use of my hands. _Wait, what are these... bangles? What are they doing on my arms, and legs, and..._ I tentatively shifted, watching the long fabric bunch up at my waist like a ribbon-turned-partial-skirt. _What the HELL am I WEARING?!_

"Oy!" Something was shoved into my face as he barked, "Tell me, d'ya know wha' this is or not?!"

"I—" I fumbled with words before falling silent and squinting in the dark room. He turned the object this way and that, but I couldn't find anything special with it. So I answered shakily, "A-a book...?"

" _Tch._ " It was pulled away from me as I was rather suddenly shoved to the ground. "She's useless like ya said. Dunno what he was thinkin'..."

"He was thinkin' she was pretty," snorted the second man. "But if she can't help us..."

"Did ya hear me?" Three sounded anxious, matching my own feelings in this situation. "Someone's causin' a stir! We need to leave!"

"In a bit. So," Ugly jerked a thumb in my direction, "what d'ya suppose we do wit' Pretty Useless, 'ere?"

"Wha— _hey!_ " At least I was using those names in my head!

"I say we keep her."

"Might make a pretty profit," Ugly mused aloud.

Anxious Man aborted a gesture to groan. "I don' care if we sell her or slit her throat—whatever we do, we need to do it _now!_ "

 _What sort of nightmare is this?_

Before I could force myself to wake up, splintering wood and piercing light was followed by the anguished noises of Anxious at the door. "Shit," was Ugly's response, leaping to his feet with a wicked axe in hand. "How'd they get here so fa—"

I was staring right at him when a blade swung into his neck. He gurgled, and fell. Standing before me was the man behind the sword, cool gaze enough to freeze my heart. He took a step forward, weapon raising as if to strike me down—

" _Hraah!_ "

Two, who'd thought he stood a chance now that the intruder was distracted, charged forward with sword drawn. Close-quarters around furniture proved to be his undoing, however; his steel bit the wooden table instead of flesh, but his opponent's neatly lodged itself in his gut. The two stood for only a moment, locked together as they were, before a firm kick to the forgotten man's kneecaps brought him to the floor. He cursed his attacker with his dying breath until I was staring into sightless eyes in the following quiet.

Unable to defend myself and surrounded by corpses, I did something I hadn't thought possible in a dream.

I fainted, for the first time in my life.

* * *

Startling awake, I stared at the ceiling in the dark as I attempted calm. But the shuffling noises that had woken me garnered my full attention, heart jumping into my throat.

I ran careful hands over my body as I examined my surroundings. A simple room of stone, walls lined with cots where men, women and children recovered in silence. _Still not my room._ This was the third time I'd woken up in an unfamiliar place, and it wasn't getting any easier to deal with. Just because it didn't seem like there was any immediate danger didn't mean the possibility didn't exist. _And I have no idea where my pocket knife is._ On the plus side, my wrists were no longer bound.

My breathing shortened, and I found my legs swinging over to let my bare feet press against what had to be ice. In fact, as the blanket slid away, I realized I had to be in the coldest room in the world.

Thin arms could only provide so much heat, but it was all I had; my attire was hardly suited for this climate, and I once again pushed aside the question of how I'd acquired it as I searched for more important answers.

Where was I? How did I get here? Who were those men who had tried to whisk me away, and the one who had nearly skewered me as he slaughtered them?

And why was everything so... medieval?

It was fairly obvious that I was in what had to be a castle, or close to it. Everything was cobblestone, wood and steel, and as I stepped quietly down the freezing corridor I figured it was only a matter of time before someone caught me wandering in the middle of the night. I still wasn't so sure that I was in safe hands, considering the look that one man had given me. But a person could give me answers. _And really, if they wanted to do awful things to me, they probably would've added restraints, not removed them._

At the top of some equally cold stairs I was loathe to descend, I finally caught a silhouette at the bottom. I cleared my throat and called softly, "Pardon me." They stopped and turned, but the sconces dotting the corridors cast many shadows across their features. At best, I could figure out it was a man.

He grunted, which I guess was the best I was going to get. Ignoring the rude response, I took a few of the steps and asked more quietly, "Can you tell me where I am?"

I seemed to be studied about as closely as I was trying to study him, but equivalent exchange was hardly something to fight for when I was so clearly lost and confused. At this point, I was so exhausted that I would accept _anything_ to keep the fear at bay—even incomplete information. To say I was disappointed when he turned away would be laughable. It was only because he told me to follow that I could swallow the embarrassment of having been prepared to chase after him and beg. I was fairly adaptable, but only when I knew what I was getting into.

It was difficult to keep up with the man when he seemed to quicken his pace the faster I walked. In the end, I was almost jogging when he darted around a corner and I reached it to barely catch the dark fabric of his clothing entering a far more brightly lit room.

The crackle of a welcoming fire awaited, and so I flat-out sprinted over to stand in the doorway... and froze.

There was a large, roaring fireplace inside, but that wasn't what startled me. It wasn't the weapons lining a table, or the tapestries depicting epic battles against beasts and men alike. No, it was two of the individuals standing within that made me blanch, staring at them like I expected a single blink would cause them to vanish. It didn't go unnoticed.

"Good evening," an older gentleman greeted, inclining his head as his staff tapped the stone. "Glad to see you awake."

 _Oh gods, this can't be happening._

"Never doubted ya!" The booming voice belonged to one of the causes of my distress, who stood at the table as if he'd been preparing for medieval combat. My gaze flickered as he strode over, palm smacking loudly against the other man's shoulder. Tall and broad, with a skull shaved bald and two straps to keep an eyepatch in place, a bare-chested Nick Fury-type man swore jovially, "Jael's one of the best healers west of the arena! 'Course, we give him plenty to practice with!"

"Aye."

"So, lass..." The man obviously in charge turned to face me, grin playful and bold. "Got yer eye on anything in particular?"

My throat was so dry, I barely managed a squeak. This couldn't have been real. I reached up and lightly slapped my cheek, scrunching my eyes shut. _This is just a dream._ I rubbed at them for good measure, muttering, "Okay, wake up _any_ second now..."

They were all still standing there. Including...

"Bah ha! Watch out, Lon'qu, she's got eyes for _you!_ "

The man I'd followed in only grunted, angled sideways to scrutinize me from a safe distance. I sucked in a breath, searching head-to-toe, and found everything as it should be: Dark hair, narrowed eyes, frown, swordsman attire, complete with sword and sheath. I lingered on the white fur at the ends of his sleeves and boots, but thoughts of crazy muscles were put on hold to snap back to the bald man.

"Am I in Ferox?" It came rushing out, incredulous and sharp. My spine felt like it would snap, I was so tense.

"Aye, lass. Yer on the western coast of Regna Ferox." The pride was obvious, and I couldn't help a hysterical laugh that earned me some odd looks.

"Right." Hand to my forehead, I giggled, "I must've hit my head _hard_. I've had weird dreams before, but _this..._ actually no, this isn't the craziest one, but it gets an honorable mention."

Jael stepped forward, calm smile belying his worry. "Are you ill?"

"More like insane." I ignored his startled look, covering my face with both hands as the laughter grew louder. "This is what you get for playing too many games, Megan; you start to lose it! Next thing you know, Dad's going to come back from the dead and come crashing in on a dragon. Ha, ha ha, I... have such strange dreams."

"She... must still be exhausted."

"I bet I fell asleep at work again." Glancing down at my attire, I snorted. "And this would explain the Plegian garb. You play too many video games, Megan. It's clearly a condition. Although," I coughed, wrapping thin arms around my waist, "you'd think I would be a dragon in my dreams instead, so I'm not so bloody _cold._ "

 _That has to be it. This is some weird, extended dream from staying up late with Fire Emblem: Awakening again._ I started to rub my arms and gave a distracted hum. _Although, it's weird, I don't normally wake up over and over again in my dreams, or have such tactile sensations..._

Pinch.

 _Ow._

I felt that, too.

A coarse palm came to rest on my forehead, and I would have jerked away if I didn't have to contend with that sinking feeling in my gut. Jael grunted, telling the others, "She has a fever. Probably from running around half-naked in the snow."

"I wasn't running—wait." I suddenly gripped his arm, squeezing it.

Muscles, tendons, bones. The snow, the rope, the freezing cobblestone, the sheets I'd been wrapped up in when I woke—I'd felt all of those.

It wasn't a dream.

"Oh. Oh, gods. You're real."

"Aye," he answered, sounding amused.

Stepping away from him, I stumbled and managed to fall flat on my rear.

" _Fuck._ You're real. You're _all_ real." I patted my knees, my chest, my hair, trying and failing to find proof of this being an elaborate fantasy. "I'm actually here. Like, fucking _here,_ in Ferox. I'm... and you're..."

Jael knelt down, cautiously reaching for me. "It's all right, take your time. It's only natural to be confused, and afraid. You were just kidnapped, after all."

"Oh, shit. _Shit._ " Then those men, with their axes and swords... "They were g-gonna kill me. They were actually... it wasn't a dream, I was _going to die._ " The trembling made me jerk painfully hard, and I pulled my knees up for some sort of stability. Hugging them until my knuckles whitened, it felt like someone else was using my mouth to ask, "How... how did I get here?"

The man began rubbing soothing circles on my back, smelling of herbs and steel. I ducked my head, working to keep my emotions under control. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry_ —

"Well, I don't know where those men took you from... but after they were dealt with—"

 _Dealt with._ I remembered blood staining wood, and tried not to wretch.

"—we brought you to this fort. You were unconscious for several hours."

"I..." I took a deep breath. Serenity was out of reach, but I could pretend to be composed as long as I didn't think too hard. _Basics. Cover the basics._ "I would like a coat, please. And shoes."

"Of course. You must be hungry, as well." Jael helped me to my feet, acting as temporary support until my legs decided it would be a good idea to work properly. It helped that he wasn't intrusive in his handling; the moment I straightened, he stepped a respectful distance away and gestured for me to precede him out the door.

I wasn't able to avoid glancing over my shoulder, examining West-Khan Basilio and his champion, Lon'qu. To see these faces not on a screen, but in-person, was taking some time to sink in. _Lon'qu is scowling like I would've expected, and Basilio is loud and boisterous._ It was alien yet familiar, and the images stuck with me on the way back to my cot in the healer's wing.

Nothing made sense in my world anymore. But, _that_ made sense if I wasn't _in_ my world anymore.

People who didn't finish their college degree should not have to contemplate the fabric of spacetime in relation to alternate universes and their places in them.

Staring into the darkness, I wrapped myself in a coat, a blanket, and a promise. _I will not die._ No matter what followed after this—any war, tragedy or accident—I _would not die._ I had to figure out what sort of divine intervention this was, find a way out, and make it out of here in one piece.

"Simple," I whispered, choking on a sob. "Piece of c-cake."

Burying my face, I finally let the medicine do its work, letting sleep take me away from the fears of the living. I would need it too, as nightmares would start to visit me more frequently than ever before.

* * *

"Are these yours?"

"Huh?" Glancing up from the thumbs I'd been twiddling in my lap, I happily turned my attention from my purpose in this bed to the book that Jael had in his outstretched hand. "Um, I don't think so... what is it?"

"It's a magic tome," he explained, allowing me to take it. "We found several with the men that kidnapped you. You slept for so long I almost forgot about them."

"Magic..."

My heart fluttered at the thought.

 _How many people do I know who would KILL for this kind of opportunity?_

I traced the symbols on the front, narrowing my eyes. _Hold up... I recognize some of these._ My supreme nerdom bore fruit as I recognized two of these symbols as "r" and "e," and so deduced that this was a "fire" tome. _Being a total fangirl and reading far too deeply into a franchise's lore is finally paying off!_ Of course, the red cover might've made it obvious, but I wanted this small victory at least. Curious, I opened the book and examined the words within.

"I... I think I can decipher this." A surprised laugh was quickly smothered, and I rapidly flipped through the pages. "...yeah! I recognize these ones, and with a few context clues... this must be "are," and..." I referenced the front cover. "If this is "i," then... hey, do you have any spare paper I can borrow?"

He obliged, but when presenting the quill and ink was met with confusion he inquired, "Do you know how to use these?"

"Erm..."

After a little trial and error, I was finally able to scratch out the various runes and assign their equivalents in the English alphabet. My legs were tucked beneath me as I hunched over the tome, feeling the closest to normalcy since first waking up in this world. If there was anything that could bring me a sense of home, it was pouring over books and scribing a rune-row. I wondered if the Elder Futhark featured in this world. _THAT, I could read without trouble._ At the very least, I was glad everything wasn't in Japanese. I would've been royally screwed.

As I was practicing this new alphabet, Jael remarked, "I'm surprised you can understand it. Not many do. Where are you from, lass?"

Quill stopping, I worried over how much I should tell. _I can't say I'm from another world where I played in THIS one like a video game, or they'll actually dub me insane._ But lying to well-meaning people never sat well with me. So I decided to be truthful, to a point.

"I'm from a land very, _very_ far from here. We'd only heard stories of Ferox and its neighbors." I mumbled half to myself, "I didn't even think it was _real_ until now..."

"I can imagine the fantastic stories that traveled so far," he mused, grinning. Then he rubbed at his stubble. "Do you hail from Chon'sin, like Lon'qu? You seemed to recognize his garb."

 _Er, not for THAT reason._ I shook my head. "No, I'm from—well, the _short_ name everyone uses is "America." I doubt you've heard of it," I added, wondering if I'd just made a terrible mistake. But honestly, what harm could the name of one country do?

"Hm..." Some time passed before he sighed in defeat. "You're right, it doesn't ring any bells. Do they have magic there?"

"Not at all." Flipping through the book, I admitted, "This is the first time I've handled a magic tome. We have the runes, sure—a fair amount of runes, and I went looking for _all_ of them—but no magic. I... I've always wanted to try." My fingers were itching to trace the symbols on the page, and I could feel the words bubbling on my tongue like soda. To my dismay, Jael plucked the tome from my hands.

"Perhaps when you're fully recovered," he said to my whine of protest. I couldn't help the pout, and he laughed with a ruffle of my hair. He gestured at the parchment, inquiring, "What other runes do you know? I'm not much for reading, but you've piqued my interest now."

The question brightened my mood considerably, as always happened when someone expressed an interest in one of my secret hobbies. Quickly, as I'd now gotten the hang of the feathery writing utensil, I scribbled down the twenty-four runes generally accepted as the Elder Futhark with vague explanations, avoiding problematic talk of religion or history. Some had variations depending on their location in Europe, and I happily sketched these out as well before translating all of them into English letters, then the runes he was familiar with. It was an academic exercise that took my mind off of the boredom of waiting to be healthy again, and the submerged panic of being lost to another dimension.

"You've got more education than some folks around here," he observed during a lull. "Are you of nobility?"

" _Ha!_ " I covered my mouth, apologizing for laughing in his face. "My family struggled financially for years. I had public education to thank." _Schooling must be very different here,_ I realized, thinking of the small towns and sturdy forts I'd seen in the game.

"The land of America must be thriving." I snorted, but he didn't question the rueful look on my face to pursue a topic he found more interesting. "Your family was poor, however?"

"I wouldn't say poor _exactly,_ but..." It was difficult to phrase this without using terminology that would confuse him even more. I carefully explained, "It's difficult for a single parent to support two children, in my country. My mother was a hard worker, though."

"Ah. You did mention... in your reasonably hysterical state... that your father had passed."

I sighed. "Yeah. He did. But they'd went their separate ways long before that. He didn't do much in helping her out, either." Shaking my head, I told him, "But enough about that! I'm more interested in talking about _Ferox._ It has a tournament to determine its ruler, right?"

"Yes. In fact, we'll be traveling to the arena in a fortnight."

" _Really?_ " Perhaps I _did_ have an inkling of where I was in the game's timeline. I scooted forward on the cot, asking, "Could I come? I'd love to see it!" He laughed at my enthusiasm.

" _Jael!_ "

A man called for his assistance at the door, mentioning something about a patrol. I recognized this newcomer as the warrior who had nearly impaled me with his sword; I avoided his piercing gaze in favor of Jael's playfully exasperated smile.

"Aye, I'll be there." Clasping my shoulder, he explained, "That's Zhent. Always eager to hunt brigands across the lands. I'll return before our departure, but our comrade Yule will be in charge of healing until then. If you behave," he joked, "perhaps she'll clear you to attempt your very first spell."

I grasped his arm in my excitement. "Do you think—?"

"There's a fair chance." Laughing again, the older man ruffled my hair again in what was quickly becoming a habit. "Avoid injuring yourself further, lass."

"I promise! Stay safe!"

 _If I can stay within sight of the "plot,"_ I schemed, _then I might be able to find someone who knows what's happened. Magic can do amazing things, right? Perhaps Miriel's book from her mother... or one of the Annas, since they litter the Outrealms like beer cans on a summer beach._

I was going to get to the bottom of this.

"Uh... 'scuse me, lady."

Blinking owlishly, I turned my attention to three small faces that had suddenly perched themselves at the foot of my cot. _Oh, boy. That's never a good sight._ I recognized them as the children I shared the healer's room with—three rambunctious boys—and I smiled widely to cover the faint sense of panic I felt at their eager expressions. I had worked in retail long enough to predict terrible things in my future.

In the end, entertaining children wasn't too difficult when you had fantastic stories to steal from animated movie plots, but I was pretty drained by the time another healer came in to shoo them back to their cots. I thanked her quietly, but she waved it off with a grunt.

"You the lass Jael was talking about?"

"Aye," I answered in mimicry of the man, lips twitching. _An adult to talk to! My sanity is safe._ When she grinned as if I'd just told a joke, I decided I had to like her if she thought _I_ was funny. "Are you... uh, the friend Jael talked about?"

"Yule," she offered, saving me the trouble of asking. I definitely liked her. She seemed to be about the same age as Jael, although her hair was a pretty purple-gray instead. A rough handshake later, and she was handing me some more parchment as she inquired, "So, show me the runes you taught yourself in a day."

I couldn't deny a request to show my nerdiness. Preparing my quill and ink, I smiled brightly as I joked, "Any requests?"

.

* * *

 _Well! That certainly happened. Let's see where this takes me, shall we? Probably nowhere predictable. It's not like there's an entire script to work off or anything._

 _Although, even if there was... anything can change._

 _-Dragon_

 _P.S.: Yes, I'm really that much of a nerd. Before Oblivion even messaged me about this, I was heavily researching FE lore and trying to teach myself the Awakening runes (on Falchion and the Emblem in-game) and the Ancient Language alphabet from earlier titles (used by Beorc mages and Laguz). I do have a life, and I spend it doing stuff like this lolme._


	2. Hey, sweet costume!

_What? No, you're not free of me. Yes, I have more. I kind of have to, otherwise that'd be a pretty lame ending to a fic. I have to catch up to Oblivion's first chapter, after all. Also it's fun, so why would I stop?_

* * *

.

By the time Jael had returned, almost a week had passed and Yule was considering (or so she said) the idea of letting me try out some magic. She kept telling me that it was too difficult to pick up right off the bat, but I was determined to find _something_ to defend myself with and that something wasn't going to be anything my twig arms couldn't hold. (On that matter, I decided to start jogging around the fort to at least build up some stamina. It wasn't too different from JROTC back in high school, albeit _far_ colder because Feroxi is a freakin' tundra.) Needless to say, the moment I saw that man I was _begging_ for a chance to wield a tome.

"Come _on,_ Jael," I wheedled, darting in front of him. He was forced to come to a halt or risk barreling into little ol' me as I pointed out, "You _said_ I could try once I recovered! And look at me, all healthy and eager to learn!"

"Aye, I did..." Eyeing my attire, he teased, "So running around half-naked in the snow was a poor decision, after all?"

I pretended to huff, unable to fight off the smile. "I'm _telling_ you, I don't know _how_ I got into that outfit. Although," I added with much less enthusiasm, "I'd rather it was me sleep-dressing myself than thinking that... those _men..._ " I shivered, brushing away the topic forcefully. "And I'll have you know I can appreciate the snow... from under fifty-million layers of warm clothes."

The Plegian outfit lied at the bottom of these layers because, honestly, it was exactly like fancy underwear or a swimsuit. Neither of which were a good idea this far north.

Seeing my determination (which prompted a mental theme song of epic proportions) Jael finally seemed ready to give in.

"All right. But—"

" _Yes!_ "

" _But,_ " he added in response to my fist-pumping, "you're sticking with wind magic, and I'm going to keep a close eye on you."

"Right, right, got it—" I was practically bouncing, but I ignored his laughter as I started with a flurry of questions. "So where's the magic tomes? Where do I start training? Do people really twirl around while casting spells? Oh, man, that'd be fun, but I'd get dizzy quickly. Kind of like dancing but, y'know, with magic. Oh gods, _magic!_ I'm learning _magic!_ Ahaha!"

By the time he took me to the courtyard I'd be practicing in, I was practically fit to burst. All of the hardships and terrors I might experience in the future would be worth it, because I was going to handle _real magic_ in my own two hands and _nothing_ could take the magic (ha) of that moment away from me. Jael had retrieved the sea-green book from his quarters, and I skipped out the door and nearly slipped on icy stone before coming to a sudden halt. I wasn't surprised by the number of warriors training out there, but rather by the _person_ I recognized.

I hadn't seen Lon'qu since I first woke up here, thanks to being essentially bedridden for a time and the fact that he avoided women like the plague; it had almost been easy to forget that he wasn't a figment of my imagination anymore. He swung the practice sword in fluid motions, darting forward and pulling back with the elegance of a choreographed dance. _How does he DO that? Can he really do that jump-thrust strike like in the game? Ugh, maybe I should stop calling it a "game," considering..._ But all of the questions that came rushing back had to be put on hold. I was here for a reason. I couldn't help glancing over at him a few times, but equally impatient was the need to get my fingers on the spells within this tome.

I flipped it open, skimming the pages as I mentally recited the words to further cement this new alphabet in my mind. A lot of the passages were about handling magic, which I'd had plenty of time to go over while stuck in bed. I recalled the breathing exercises and focused, pulling at intangible parts of myself I swear wasn't present before coming to this place. Something in Ferox—or in the _Fire Emblem_ world, more like—sparked to life a part of my soul that made me gasp once released.

Hand pressed against a rapidly beating heart, a wide grin stretched across my face as something like electricity shot through my body. "Oh, hell, yeah." I could definitely get used to _that_ feeling.

I went to the edge of the courtyard, ignoring the catcalls and the conversation someone had struck up with Jael. Eyes glued to the tome, I mumbled the incantation and felt a breeze pick up. Or was that just natural wind?

No, wait, _that_ chill was the breeze; the spell conjured up slightly warmer winds, as if the energy of magic itself heated the air. Circling my hand was a golden ring of ancient script that predated Ylisse and even its preceding kingdom. It eventually faded as I stared, wide-eyed, then beaming.

 _Oh gods, THIS IS MAGIC MEGAN._

With more confidence than was probably warranted in me, I jutted out an arm with another incantation. I watched a shallow furrow be cut into the snow and sashayed in place at my accomplishment. "Ha, if my friends could see me now—"

"Careful," Jael warned, but I waved him off.

"—they'd be so jealous! Hey! Let's try _this_ out!"

Another gust of wind, this time slashing horizontally, and I marveled at the colored blades that quickly dissipated. "I can paint with all the colors of the wind," I sang, giddy with this triumph. I was doing it! I was really using magic!

"Lass, you should probably—"

"Hahaha, oh gods, I could help a boat sail, or create my own air-conditioning— _ooh,_ I can't wait to use fire magic and have my own personal heater!"

"Let's not get ahead of oursel—"

" _Okay!_ " I dived deeper into the book and found another incantation I'd like to try. "How about a little of _this?_ "

I swiped my arm diagonally, as if I was banishing a monster before me... and was totally caught off-guard by the massive gale that sent me flying backwards.

" _Oh shi_ —"

 _Thump!_

" _Gah!_ "

" _Ow, fuck, shit, dammit...!_ "

I swore at the misleading passage ( _A simple gale, my ass!_ ) and my own stupidity, but my focus quickly shifted from the past to the present as I heard a grunt beneath me. Of course, I was sitting on something, and it was... alive? "Oh, shit," I yelped, scrambling off of my temporary cushion and turning to examine them, "are you all—"

With wide eyes, Lon'qu stared at the hand I'd pressed against his chest to search for injuries, beet red.

 _Oh. Whoops._

"You're touching me." He looked more pained by that fact than the collision we'd just experienced. "Please stop touching me." His deep voice was surprisingly shaky, as if I was a harbinger of doom for his entire world. And then I realized what I was doing and nearly shrieked.

"Oh! Shit! Sorry, I—" Getting up proved difficult, as the moment I had begun to rise I found I was standing on the tail of my own coat, resulting in me tumbling backwards and onto cold stone. " _Ack, fucking hell_ —"

 _I can't believe that happened._ Waking up in Ferox, kidnapped by brigands? Okay. Saved and brought to a fort owned by Basilio? Sure. A comical failure ending in a clichéd accident with the man afraid of women? Now that had to be crossing some sort of line.

Jael was hovering in the blink of an eye, checking me for injuries like I'd attempted for the myrmidon.

"Nothing's broken," he concluded shortly, and the warmth of some sort of diagnosis spell dissipated as he pulled me up. Chuckling, he teased, "You've got quite the mouth on ya, lass."

"Don't tell my mother," I muttered, rubbing the back of my head. Nothing had broken, but cobblestone wasn't the comfiest of things to fall on. Not comfier than people, anyway. I winced, turning to apologize, only to find Lon'qu was already several yards off on his way back into the fort. " _Fuck._ He hates me."

"Nah, he's just got a little problem with being near the ladies."

A thought zipped through my mind, and I tried and failed to muffle the sniggering it produced. When the war monk scrutinized me, I couldn't hold it in any longer.

"You could say I really... _fell_ for him."

He chuckled, giving me permission to cackle at my own joke. Some others joined in. "I think you'll fit in well with us Feroxi," he decided, turning to the other warriors. "Lass is full of surprises, huh?"

Suddenly, I found myself being handled by several different people until I was lifted off of the ground for the second time that day. I _did_ shriek then, staring over the Feroxi's heads as they made their way to the fort after their champion.

"Uh, maybe put the Megan down, please? Hey! _Hey! Guys, come on!_ Just because I'm tiny doesn't mean you can just pick me up whenever and..."

* * *

I can definitely say that marching wasn't my favorite thing in high school... but at least it wasn't ever _this_ cold. I almost regretted my decision to follow this band of warriors to Arena Ferox.

"Please bring me with you," I'd asked the West-Khan over their farewell feast. I ignored the suspicious looks or derisive snorts from various Feroxi, gaze focused on the most important man in the room. "I'm not sure what help I can offer you, but I can follow orders, sir."

I'd conveniently forgotten just how many chores needed to be done to keep an army functioning. And how many mountains Regna Ferox had.

Well, I knew that unless I wanted to wander this country without direction, it was my best shot at finding more about my situation. Because where there's plot, there's answers! ...eventually. Right? Right. Anyway. It helped that Basilio and Lon'qu were leading them, meaning I had beacons of familiarity to gravitate towards. Or... try to, at least. And fail miserably. Basilio was too busy with work or play to humor me for long, and as for his champion...

Throughout playing the game (repeatedly) and reading copious amounts of fanfiction, I'd come to understand the myrmidon's phobia as something outside of his control. It wasn't his fault, really, and I couldn't fault him for reacting the way he did after the kind of experience he'd had. _I have more severe reactions to far less traumatizing events, so I can't exactly complain._ Understanding the phobia and _dealing_ with the phobia, of course, are totally different things. I wasn't angry at the man, but I _was_ annoyed at the phobia. I just wanted friends! Was that so much to ask?

Jael had gone with his teammates on another patrol, so I didn't even have him to fall back on for conversation. _At least he left me all of these tomes._ When I wasn't scrubbing pots or polishing armor, I was pouring through every last page and practicing at the edge of camp, hoping to absorb all I could in as little time as possible. _People here have had their entire lives to learn their weapon of choice,_ I mused. _I haven't even been here a month._ I had a _lot_ of catching up to do.

I was keeping that promise to myself.

I had also learned from my previous mistake; I didn't practice around others, and when I heard the crunch of footsteps I immediately stopped what I was doing to face them. It was one of the many warriors Basilio had taken with him, a scar running up his chin and through his lips. Miles? No, that didn't sound right. _Whatever_ his name was, he made a comment on helping prepare a proper meal for everyone, which earned a snort and dismissive wave. "I'll be right there." I had to return the tomes to the tent I was given. (It was small, like me. We got along fairly well.)

The Feroxi involved in the dinner-making process were as enthusiastic as a wildfire, often roping me into being audience to their outlandish stories. Tonight was no different, although this time I had the company of the West-Khan's champion. Sort of. He quite obviously was avoiding the women of this camp—such as myself—and the others were even more obvious in forcing me to work alongside him.

Eyeing them dubiously, I glanced at the man who'd put a good ten feet between us within seconds. _Whoa, I barely BLINKED._ A potato was dropped into my expectant hands, but I knew I was too slow for their liking, and I couldn't just hand it to the man like his comrades would. _What to do, what to do... ah! Okay, remember to pronounce his name correctly, Megan. Lon-coo, not Lon-kyoo._

I drew my arm back, shouting, "Hey... Lon'qu!" _Nailed it._ "Catch!"

He turned just as the potato went into the air, reacting without hesitation. I complimented him on his catch, even though it wasn't anything to write home about, and turned to ask the others, "Am I really playing pass-the-potatoes tonight?"

"Aye, if you want to _eat_ them later!" Meeko—no, that wasn't it, either—smacked my shoulder, nearly throwing me onto the ground. "Better than scrubbing pots, innit?"

"I'll be doing that anyway," I pointed out, smiling. It wasn't like I _enjoyed_ doing these chores. A nerd I might be, but a clean freak I am far from. There was a sense of accomplishment inherent in finishing a task, though, knowing that the men and women here respected me for working hard. It was a rare feeling, being appreciated for hard work.

Shaking my head when he laughed, I turned at a grunt to find a potato flying at my head. I squeaked and caught it in a panic, entertaining the warriors behind me and causing the one in front of me (far, far in front of me) to smirk.

"Nice catch, pipsqueak!"

The nickname was annoying, but I couldn't help the smile as I passed along the potato Lon'qu had peeled in record time. _They're so friendly, despite not knowing a thing about me._ I eyed the knife in his hands, but another spud awaited its fate. So I made a game of tossing and catching them and laughed when I dropped the "ball," claiming it gave them more flavor. It wasn't like they had much in the way of sanitation, anyway. Here was to hoping none of us died of some awful disease.

I was nearly ravenous when supper was finished, which earned some teasing when I slurped down the stew in record time. But magic was surprisingly exhausting, and I had been training nonstop since first given leave to use it. At least it made sleep easier to find, as these people woke far earlier than was pleasant and I didn't want to risk being left behind.

Still, as I lit up my tent with a calculated use of a fire spell hovering in my hand, I examined the _other_ tome Jael had left with me. The dark purple one.

 _Surely he didn't do it purposefully._ I doubted he would give me ammunition for hexes or curses if he could help it; this world was reasonably wary of dark magic, considering Plegia's familiarity with the practice and their worship of a tyrant dragon who relished its more malicious tendencies. But I didn't see the horrors, I saw _opportunities,_ and I couldn't let this chance go to waste.

 _...ha. Waste._ I crack me up sometimes.

Slipping out, I wrapped my coat more tightly and set off for my clearing. I'd regret the extra training in the morning, but academic interest and childlike wonder overwhelmed the rational side of my brain. _You might never get another chance like this._

And I might've found myself crying in the snow from the flux (double ha) of emotions this breed of magic conjured up, but beneath it all was satisfaction that I had more tools at my disposal to keep myself... and maybe others... alive.

* * *

We were predicted to arrive at the arena within a few days, which was why the sudden halt called by Basilio baffled me. I'd nearly bumped into Milo (that _had_ to be it) in the middle of reading my book on the road. It was puzzling, so I pushed through to the front for answers.

 _What's the hold-uuUUUUH SHIT._

I examined the shambling corpse—bruise-colored skin, eerie red eyes glowing—and tried not to panic. _Is it already time? I almost forgot it was before the tournament that these things started appearing!_

None of these people knew how to handle the Risen yet.

Hands fisted in my coat, I jogged to the front of the procession and called out, "Khan, sir!"

Basilio kept his single eye on the approaching oddity, although he did reply with a distracted, "Aye, lass?"

"Th-that person—" Fear I'd shoved down came bubbling back. "That _thing_ is—it's bad news bears, _very_ bad news. It..." Time to be cunning. Channel your inner Slytherin! "I-I think the men who kidnapped me talked about this!"

This got his full attention. "They did?"

"Yes, sir!" _Okay, roll with it!_ "They, they said that there was some dark magic... that could reanimate corpses. Bring back the dead." I peered again at the figure, an itch developing on my fingertips. "It... it looks just as they described."

It actually looked far worse than I remembered fighting in the game. I'd seen a real dead body before, but that had been barely hours after the peaceful passing of a dearly beloved family member. This was... going to be far more disgusting. The wind changed direction, and I gagged and covered my nose.

"He _smells_ rotten," someone commented, causing Basilio to laugh. A brief thought for Ugly and his comrades made me pale.

I wanted to give further warnings, although I didn't know exactly what to say, but quite suddenly I noticed the Risen wasn't moving anymore. Also, it had pulled out a bow.

 _Archer? Fuck!_

And without thinking, I jumped in front of the broad-shouldered man, incantation already pouring out in a panic. The force of the gale spell once more sent me flying backwards, but Basilio hardly moved when all hundred-and-twelve pounds of me crashed into him. The wind meant the loosed arrow wildly missed its mark, and its rending power completely tore off the corpse's arm... not that it was all that affected. Thankfully this meant it couldn't pull back the bowstring anymore.

It was almost like it was staring right at me. My blood ran cold.

"My khan," someone shouted, directing attention to the trees northwest of us. Activity proved that this Risen wasn't a lone drifter.

"To arms, men!" Rallying the warriors behind him, Basilio roared over their noise, "Return these corpses to their dirt naps!" A bow was in _his_ hands now, arrow whistling over my shoulder to embed in the first corpse's torso.

To me, he grunted, "Come on, lass! Aren't you eager to use what you learned?"

This was a real life-and-death battle, and I had put myself at the front of it.

"Fuck my life," I muttered, but snapped out of it at the nearby _clang_ of steel.

It appeared I didn't need the tomes physically in my hands to cast a spell I had studied, but the rush of fear and adrenaline made it difficult to recall every incantation. Unwilling to go flying all over the place, I took a moment to run through my mental list before settling on something a little hotter than conjured winds. Milo thanked me for the assist, saluting me with an axe before returning to the fray.

To my relief, the Risen were so focused on attacking the loud Feroxi that I wasn't high on their undead priorities. I stepped backwards, slowing my breathing like the tomes had taught me. The most efficient way to cast magic was to do so deliberately, not off-the-cuff.

 _Let's get rid of the long-range assholes first._

My next spell swallowed a Risen archer with a _whoof_ of flames, destroying its equipment to render it useless. It wasn't dead, but ambling closer only proved to be its downfall as it dissolved into purple mist and sludge, sliced cleanly by Lon'qu's blade. He barely acknowledged my nod before continuing on with his deadly crusade to protect his khan and comrades. _I need to emulate that level of intense focus and calm._

Funny coincidence that, as I thought this, I suddenly found an axe swinging in my direction.

" _Aaah!_ "

 _I FAILED I'M SO FUCKING DEAD_ —

" _Hyaa!_ "

Quite suddenly, the swish of fabric across my face preceded the heavy _thump_ of a body hitting the ground. I had fallen backwards in my panic, so I was forced to look up at my savior with wide eyes. My jaw dropped to complete the image of utter disbelief as that swishing cape settled around the shoulders of a masked vigilante who, of course, would later be introduced as "Marth"... before being revealed as Chrom's time-traveling daughter.

Without warning, she grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet.

"Fight, and live," she commanded with a pseudo-male voice, Falchion gleaming in her hands.

 _Right. Battle. That's happening._

I swallowed dryly, then turned to stand back-to-back with her as other corpses noticed us. So much for being ignored. _But I guess being next to one of Grima's worst enemies is like standing in a big-ass spotlight._ Two axe-wielders circled to face Lucina ( _Sword beats axe, right?_ ) with what might have been murderous intent if they actually had the capacity to care about what they were doing. I was definitely reevaluating my opinions on the zombie genre, after this.

The warmth left my back as the young lord charged, and that's when a Risen myrmidon came at me. I set it on fire, realized my mistake when that didn't slow it down, and _finally_ managed to cast that gale spell without losing my footing.

"I hope that _hurt,_ " I taunted.

My triumph was short-lived because another Risen took its place, but then Lucina darted forward to sink her blade into its neck and kick it down. _Damn, she's a bad-ass!_ She was making me look bad. I wasn't too upset, incidentally.

"Thank you," I told her with an honest smile.

It morphed into fear as I glanced over her shoulder. This burned into rage in a hot second, and I used those dark emotions to fuel the flux spell I cast at the archer aiming at her back. Once, twice - with the third casting, it finally began to dissolve.

"You _will not_ touch her," I hissed, knowing the corpse couldn't hear or even understand me. But this girl was the hope of her future, and possibly mine, and after playing the game a few times with her as my daughter it was a little difficult to _not_ feel protective seeing the real thing.

Lucina was reasonably shocked behind her mask, although she recovered quickly. The physical reminder of her secret reminded me that no one was supposed to know about her gender, and I vowed to curse my carelessness when we weren't fighting for our lives.

She was efficient in felling these unnatural foes after years of surviving in her dark future, and she barked very blunt wisdom to whoever was closest in the hopes they'd pass it along. I avoided fire spells with her advice in mind, although casting it was really satisfying, and I only conjured thunder if I had a clear shot as I feared the Feroxi's armor would conduct it. Despite the circumstances, I could feel confidence trickling into my movements the more I fought. I beheaded a Risen with wind-blades just before Lon'qu could lunge at it, and he met my gaze for an instant before the battle took our attention once more. Maybe I could earn his respect if I fought well enough?

When the makeshift battlefield stilled, I realized I was trembling slightly as I whirled around to make doubly sure the aggressors were all dealt with. (Putting it that way—"dealt with"—softened the blow a bit. I could pretend I hadn't been internally screaming the entire time.) I panted from my efforts and jumped with a tiny shriek when someone clapped me on the back.

"Lass," Basilio told me, grinning widely, "I think you've earned a few drinks. And you!" He looked to Lucina. "You slipped in and caused quite a stir, yourself! Got a name?"

"...Marth."

 _Okay, she had to have practiced that voice for hours._ It was obvious if you knew it came from a woman, but otherwise she just sounded like a very formal, kind of soft young man. It helped that her blade was sharp and wielded as her father had taught her.

"Marth, eh?" Obviously everyone knew about the Hero-King, even this far north. Ferox was one of the keepers of the Fire Emblem's gemstones, after all. ( _Sable? No, that's Plegia. Vert was with Tiki, I think, so... gah, not important right now!_ ) The khan rubbed his beard before giving a wholly unconcerned shrug at her name. "Well, lad, you fight like a pure-blooded hero, I'll give you that! You have my thanks."

She inclined her head, then began searching the crowd. When she found whatever she was looking for, she declared rather suddenly, "I come to challenge your strongest warrior."

I started, looking at her in alarm. _Right now? We just fought a bunch of Risen! What the hell is she_ —

"Bah ha ha!" This amused the West-Khan, along with several others. Crossing his arms, he pressed, "Are you sure about that, lad? A dead man is no comparison to a hot-blooded warrior!" But she didn't falter. "Confident. Or cocky. Let's see you prove yourself against the best of the best. Lon'qu! What say you?"

The man was at his side within moments. Eyeing this new opponent, he glanced up and down and snorted. "Fine," he answered, and my heart jumped.

"So it's settled! Make way, soldiers!"

I couldn't just let this proceed as is. Despite knowing what happened in the games, something had me marching across the packed snow to grab the myrmidon's wrist.

"W-woman!"

" _Quiet,_ " I hissed, ignoring the wolf-whistles from the others. I kept myself from glancing backwards at the lord, standing on my tiptoes to keep my words secret. "I'm warning you now: That warrior is a _woman._ "

"W-what?"

"I'm serious!" Seeing that his skin was starting to crawl with the prolonged contact, I finally released him and took several steps back. He was still wary, but I ignored my guilt and unease to meet his gaze. "Trust me."

He frowned, staring over my shoulder at "Marth." Something slid into place in his mind, and his entire stance changed. He took several deep breaths, as if preparing to do something incredibly painful. I could practically watch him dissociating from his fear, mentally untangling his past from the present with meticulous care.

"Right."

This was the best I could do. Nodding, I finally got out of their way, finding a place beside a woman cheering enthusiastically from the sidelines. I think her name was Alli?

"Kick his ass," she was saying now. I couldn't help a grin.

"Show him what Ferox is made of," I called, earning a backwards glance. I gave him a thumbs-up, beaming widely. He huffed, which was slightly encouraging. If he had enough of his wits about him to be annoyed, then he could focus on this duel without freaking out over Lucina's gender. I was only making it a fair fight.

That wasn't wrong to do. Right?

" _Begin!_ "

I blinked, and Lon'qu had already struck.

 _Whoa_ — _his phobia certainly isn't holding him back now!_ I felt my heart race as steel flashed and clashed, prompting the other warriors to cheer. Lucina met his blade with her own, and I gaped in awe of two swordsman giving their all to this spur of the moment challenge. He was quicker, but she stood firm; she was more powerful, but he more fluid. Remembering what I'd seen of his form before, I concluded he was far more impressive when in action.

I didn't doubt that Lucina's training had begun with following her father's footsteps and ended with fending off the undead hordes, and it showed in her refusal to give even an inch. _Because if you make one mistake facing Grima and his scourge... you're dead._

It was only now that I realized just what I was getting into. I wasn't on the road to see a friendly competition; continuing down this path would bring me right into the heart of a war between Chrom and Gangrel, and later (if I hadn't found a way home by then) into the maws of Grima himself. This wasn't a game anymore. If someone lost their life, there was no reset option. This was classic mode, but all the more terrifying in reality.

Anyone who fell could rise again, but not as they once were.

So absorbed in my spiraling thoughts, I was jerked back to the present as a cry went out, weapons screeching across each other—and then we all moved as one away from the duelists when a sword went flying to embed itself in the earth. _No way._ I glanced up, scrutinizing the steel at the loser's throat, and inhaled sharply.

It was Falchion sticking out of the icy ground.

I swallowed hard as Lucina yielded, stepping back and bowing stiffly to her opponent. Lon'qu immediately sheathed his blade, putting plenty of distance between them, and nodded curtly. They were both so serious that it threw me off guard when the crowd burst into a chant of their champion's name. Lon'qu had won, as they had expected. I couldn't complain at the volume because I kind of felt like screaming myself.

As people clamoured to congratulate him, I squeezed to the front thanks to my size to give an incredulous, "That was _awesome!_ " He had actually won!

He stepped away. The time-traveler was still frowning.

I sucked in a fortifying breath before releasing with a smile. "You are _both_ incredibly talented swordsmen," I offered sincerely. I had never been witness to such a breathtaking competition, but if this was what they had to offer when they'd just finished dealing with a group of Risen... _Imagine them both at full strength!_ "Hell, I would pay to see you duel again."

"My gratitude."

I was surprised Lucina responded at all, but the faint smile she gave was most peculiar. I couldn't remember the disguised lord smiling before her epic reveal, although in-game cutscenes were admittedly a bit limited when not in full CG. _Agh, again? Stop talking about the game stuff, me!_ At the very least, I'd have expected her to be caught off-guard by my swearing. _Actually, does hell even EXIST here?_

"Well, well, well!" Basilio was clasping his champion's shoulder, proud and impressed in equal parts. "You wanted the best, I _gave_ you the best! But you're not so bad, yourself, lad! What say you join our little band of warriors?" Lon'qu snorted at the form of address, and it made me giggle. _Like he just rounded up people to march around and give orders to._

"I cannot stay." Lucina apologized quietly, then for some reason gave me a searching look. I couldn't really figure out what she wanted from me. A sign that I'd keep her secret? I would've thought referring to "showing him" was enough proof.

Eventually, she inclined her head to the khan and Lon'qu, and then separately to me. It was a bizarre exchange. Her cape brushed against my arm with her abrupt turn, and she marched into the woods heading southeast. I had a feeling we'd meet her again, although I'd already royally screwed up the plot I was so familiar with. She was too important to fade into anonymity. _Although I took away her moment to shine in front of her father..._ The weight of that responsibility sunk into my shoulders like the shadowy fingers I'd summoned in the earlier skirmish.

Had that been the wrong decision?

Boisterous laughter broke into this dismal train of thought, making me jump and squeak as the men and women surrounding me made calls for celebration. Basilio actually wrapped an arm around to nearly choke me.

"Next town we find, we'll drink a round for my undefeated champion," he shouted, "and the little mouse who defended the bull!"

"Bull _shit,_ I'm a mouse!" The laughter nearly grew deafening, and I joined in. "I'm practically a damn dragon, guys! I even have the fire to match!"

"Oh, lass." He winked. Or I assumed it was a wink and not an overly exaggerated blink. "You'll know a dragon when you see one." Snorting, I didn't even bother protesting when the crowd of warriors lifted me above their heads to cart me partially down the road. It had to be a Feroxi thing, to pick up tiny women and holler.

 _You know what,_ I realized suddenly with a grin, _I can't wait to see a REAL dragon!_

.

* * *

 _There won't always be happy fun times, but it won't always be sad times either. I mean, it's not like we were dropped into the Future Past timeline._

 _...not these versions of us, anyway. THAT story is for another time..._

 _-Dragon_

 _P.S.: Yes, Oblivion, those lines were intentional foreshadowing for your big reveal._


	3. Everybody was sword-fighting! HUH!

_This chapter's longer, folks! Fasten your pants-belts, or you may lose 'em! (I hope everyone got the "Everybody Was Kung Fu Fighting" reference, by the way. Super proud of that one.)_

 _Also, apologies for any bad portrayals of characters. This mostly applies to Miriel. I tried, guys. I really did._

 _Double also, there's profanity. You may have noticed. Well, there's more this time around._

 ** _EDITS HAVE BEEN_ _MADE. For those who've already read this chapter, search for the * that mark the edited paragraphs. First-time readers need not worry, you get the full experience the first time 'round! Lucky you!_**

* * *

.

My awareness returned to me, and I carefully sat up to rub my eyes and groan. Nightmares were never fun to wake up from, but I'd been having a lot more lately...

 _Wait._

I peeked between fingers, and exhaled silently.

 _Not all of it was a dream._

Unless I had managed to find the one group of cosplayers who worked their asses off to be authentic in their costumes, I was still on Ferox's turf sharing bunks with warriors who stank after hours of sparring. (To be honest, I was getting used to the smell.) We had returned to sleeping within stone walls, only these ones belonged to the barracks outside of the massive arena people would be fighting in tomorrow. It was still freezing. But I couldn't lie back down now. _It's probably almost morning, anyway._

I slipped on boots to avoid frostbitten toes and crept out of the room, avoiding dangling limbs and haphazardly dropped satchels on the way. It wasn't much worse than traversing my room in the middle of the night, and I'd gotten _that_ down to an art. But thinking of home made my heart clench, and so I banished it with the promise of new things to ponder over.

Ferox and its people weren't as uncivilized as I had previously thought. They still had regular mealtimes and bathing rituals, and it was the medieval quality of the world itself that lent to anything less than sanitary or polite. Letting culture shock color my perspective was uncalled for, so I absorbed everything as if I was an anthropologist simply passing through: Eager and with a bit of note-taking. I suspected Ylisse would be closer to what I knew but decided not to expect the impossible, seeing as how no one had heard of indoor plumbing. Nothing like dealing with chamber pots to take out some of the sparkle of magical lands and glorious combat.

Still, there was the climate. "I hate it," I muttered to no one, wrapping my coat more tightly even within the fortress. Everything was cold to the touch, making it easier to accept the hearty slaps or being carried because at least everyone _else_ was able to be walking furnaces.

Sconces dotted the corridors much like the first time I'd gone wandering around a dark, freezing castle. The light they cast helped me see where to place my feet, and not much else. Somewhere there echoed the sounds of activity, but otherwise the air felt stagnant here, prompting me to seek out those still awake at this hour. Or maybe they'd just gotten up, and I was finally becoming an early riser again. _And my sarcastic thanks goes to my nightmares for that._ Feroxi passed out and stumbled out of bed far earlier than I was happy with; it was luck on my part that I could function on so little sleep.

I poked my head into what turned out to be another armory—Ferox had them aplenty—and nearly ducked back out.

"Come on in, lass!" _Damn._ He'd caught me. "Bah ha, don't be shy!"

I stepped in warily, eyeing the axes Basilio had splayed out on a wooden table. None of my encounters with that weapon type had been pleasant. So I focused my attention instead on the West-Khan and his absurd amount of muscles. _Actually, that seems to be a trend in Ferox._ I had twig-arms in comparison. _Maybe I should do more than jogging._

Grinning, the man bellowed, "Too excited to sleep?"

"Sure!" I _was_ excited about the tournament, but that was hardly keeping me up tonight. Not that I was going to tell this beefy warrior that I was having trouble processing the sight of corpses oozing purple sludge in front of my face, along with my displacement from home. There'd certainly be more of both to come. "Are you training, sir? I thought you weren't participating in the tournament."

He laughed. "What, I can't have my own fun? I don't need a tournament to fight!" I conceded this point. "It's a shame _you_ won't be in it, lass. Having you as my champion's second would give him an edge."

 _Lon'qu, need help?_ The very idea made me snort. "He hardly needs it," I argued. "He's got enough of an edge with his raw talent. I'd just get in the way. I'm perfectly happy to watch him beat the shite out of his opponent."

Basilio hardly needed a reason to boast about his champion, but this prompted yet another rambling speech about Lon'qu's prowess that had me shaking with concealed laughter. _This man doesn't cut corners or sugarcoat things,_ I mused, _but he sure does appreciate the loyalty and discipline of his warriors._ He stood at the top but thought of his men as comrades who fought beside him instead of beneath. The better parts of military lifestyle and the personalities it forged came out in his gusto and straightforward manner. It reminded me of the good memories from ROTC and how close I'd been to joining the military myself. _If I'd been given talks by a man like Basilio, that might've become a reality._

When a lull in his latest story gave me the opportunity, I told him bluntly, "You're a good man, sir."

"Aye?"

Gesturing at myself, I explained my reasoning to his arched brow. "I'm a stranger you found in Plegian attire, and from what I understand you're not exactly on good terms with them. But when I claimed to have been kidnapped and dressed up, you accepted it without question, gave me food and shelter, and let me tag along to your tournament. Even asked that I _fight_ for you," I added sternly.

"You already have," he pointed out, "or did you forget leaping to my aid?"

I waved that point aside. "In your shoes, dealing with a suspicious stranger, I can't say I would've done the same."

Not with my level of paranoia. Walking around without a knife in my pocket, at the very least, made it difficult to relax in unfamiliar territory. _Tomes aren't exactly my first choice of self-defense._

"My shoes wouldn't fit ya, lass!"

As I groaned, he came over to clap my shoulder in that strangely reassuring manner all Feroxi seemed to have. It always came dangerously close to knocking me over. But after he laughed, his tone became serious.

"And the breed of fear in your eyes that day wasn't an act."

 _Hell naw, it wasn't._ Even now, thinking about my situation brought forth a shudder, momentarily conjuring the phantoms that had haunted my sleep the last few weeks—now joined by Risen and their glowing red eyes. At least I was getting quicker at recovering from these images. _Or shoving them into a box, more like._

As I rubbed my arms for warmth, I dared to continue playing devil's advocate. "I could just be that good an actress." Another smack nearly bowled me over as Basilio laughed again.

"Then I'd do well to keep you close, wouldn't I?" He blinked—or winked. That was really confusing. "To make sure you don't get into any trouble!"

Shaking my head, I couldn't help the grin my sigh blustered through. "You only have one good eye," I joked. "And the tournament starts soon! I wouldn't want to monopolize your attention!"

"Ha!" _My poor, poor back._ "A little wordy, but spoken like a true Feroxi!" He was entertained when I vocalized my willingness to be one if he could just change the climate around here. "Bah ha, it's not even winter yet! Stay a few years, lass, and you'll learn what _real_ cold is like!"

 _Ha! As if I'd last that long... I'm not nearly as hardy as these guys. I could think of a few people who'd be better suited to..._

Continuing that train of thought had me gasp and snap my fingers with a "that's it," which caught his attention. "Aye, lass?"

"I _just_ realized who you remind me of," I told him. _Well, other than your game-counterpart, and Nick Fury._ "My uncle is like you, kind of: A lot of honor, real tough, loud and blunt. He was in the military, too." It also explained why, although I didn't always know how to react to the khan's behavior, I never felt less than safe around him. "He might be older than you, though."

" _Ha!_ " Arms crossed, Basilio challenged, "And how old do you think _I_ am?"

"I... er." I squinted, gauging what the "safe" answer would be. _What's the life expectancy in Awakening World? Or Ferox, for that matter?_ I finally admitted, "I don't know. I think my uncle's in his... forties? Fifties? I should know this, why am I such a terrible niece?"

This was a pop quiz I was destined to fail. _I hardly remember my OWN age half the time._ Which was twenty-two, right? Hm, from 2016 back to... yeah, that does mean I would turn twenty-three this year if I was still in my world. _That reminds me, need to confirm dates here so I can keep track of how long I've been gone. That is, if their time runs parallel to ours._ I wasn't so sure of anything anymore.

Footsteps interrupted my internal debate on whether the _Fire Emblem_ equivalent of a religious-nut king had orchestrated their calenders too, bringing my attention to the doorway and the figures outside of it. A familiar face brightened my day considerably, and I went over to greet Jael with a cheerful, "Hey! You decided to join us after all?"

"As if I would miss the tournament!"

"As if you would miss the _dancers,_ " argued the woman—Yule, right?—who had temporarily taken his place in the western fortress.

I giggle-snorted, then tried to pretend I hadn't as Basilio guffawed behind me. Jael acted offended by the accusation.

Another man stepped forward, giving me a cold look I easily recognized from the "savior" who'd expertly transformed Ugly, Anxious and Two into bleeding bodies in front of me. (I'm pretty sure that same expression makes an appearance in the dream-flashbacks of that event.) The word "savior" is in air-quotes because I'm not entirely sure he wanted me alive in the end. I ducked my head as he came through, a rough shoulder nearly toppling me on his way to speak with the West-Khan. Thankfully a hand at my arm kept me from meeting the floor, and I expressed my gratitude to the young warrior responsible for that.

 ***** His dark hair reminded me of Lon'qu, but the quiver on his back set him apart, along with the fact that he wore glasses like me. His leather gloves seemed well-worn, likely from the bow, and from the sword I noticed at his hip. If classes were still a thing in this game-turned-real, then that made this guy a bow knight... just like Zhent, I realized abruptly.

"Sorry about him," this man apologized, pushing those glasses up the bridge of his nose. Giving a sheepish grin, he explained, "Zhent can be difficult for strangers to get along with, but he's a good guy behind that scowl. Really."

"I'll have to take your word for it." After a beat, I muffled another snicker and, at the other two's knowing looks, added smugly, "I could've sworn that he re- _Zhent_ -ed me for something." He snorted and covered a laugh.

"Nice."

" _Yule_ be the first to know if that changes. I'll _Jael_ for ya." Oh, I was on a roll. It earned me another snicker.

"Don't get her started," Yule said, smirking. "She'll go on for hours."

"You'll be _Megan_ me to stop." I laughed more loudly, thoroughly enjoying how awful that one was, and finally held out a hand. "That's my name, by the way. Megan. Hence the joke."

"I figur—"

He stopped mid-handshake, meaning I had to stand there awkwardly as he stared. I glanced at the war mages for an explanation, but they looked just as puzzled. _Uh. Is he just now getting the joke, or—_

Then suddenly he was grabbing my arm and leading me out of the armory, shouting over his shoulder, "I'll be right back, just... have to check something!"

Attempts to protest were unheeded as he dragged me through the hall and around the corner, until he slipped into another room and finally let me jerk away as the door shut behind us. I didn't know what the hell was going on, but normally when I was carried around by Feroxi it was done in groups, so _this_ was strange and a little freaky.

" _O_ -kay," I began, a tad high-pitched, "I don't know what that was about, but I should _really_ be going and—"

"Megan. You're name is Megan. As in, Megan from America?"

I winced, wondering again if that had been the smartest move to make. "Er, yeah, I'm from the wondrous land of America. What of it?" He ran a hand through his hair, laughing softly. Okay, what?

"I can't believe it," he muttered, glancing up as if deities were just hanging out on the ceiling. _I_ couldn't see any, at least. He was somewhere between happy and scared, by the looks of his uneasy smile. Gaze dropping back to me on ground-level, he pressed, "So, you're Megan, from America, and—and you're here in Ferox, of all places."

"Uh, I'm pretty sure we established that, like, a few seconds ago—"

"It's been over a year," he breathed, that hand returning to his face. Wait, was he tearing up? _Did I make a grown man cry without even trying? Wow, I have talent._ "I thought... I didn't think that I... I thought I'd never hear from you again."

I held up my palms, back against the door and energy tingling across my fingertips. This man was _really_ confusing and worrying me. "Uh, I think you have the wrong Megan from America, pal. I've only been here, like, a month. Ish." Something was familiar about him, sure, but I had seen plenty of faces in the past four weeks. He smiled sadly at that.

"No," he argued shakily, "there's only _one_ dragon-nee-chan in the world for me. Well," he corrected, "in _any_ world."

"I..."

Wait. Wait, wait, _hold the phone._ I squinted, taking in his stature and his bittersweet expression, as my brain started to itch. What he'd just said, it sounded as if...

"Do I... _know_ you?"

Holding out his arms to either side, his teasing manner was a little ruined by a sob.

"Would it help your _sceptile_ nature, DL, if I was a _blaze?_ "

" _...Theron?!_ "

* * *

Let me interrupt this narrative and take a moment to talk about someone else for a change. Shocking, I know! And right at the good part! Trust me, this is important to get out of the way now.

Back in "Real World," I had a few friends to gush about _Fire Emblem_ to. (Specifically, _Awakening._ It's how I was introduced, and I was working on the rest of the series when, well, you know.) Funnily enough, I had dragged all three of them into it; pestering relentlessly with messages and pictures until _finally_ they got their hands on a copy and joined me in fandom hell. The one relevant to this little tangent I'm going on is the young man who often used the name "Kail" as a pseudonym. He lived practically on the opposite of the planet from me, but that didn't stop us from becoming the best of friends who shared everything from writing to memes to (obviously) video games, thanks to the internet.

It's often scoffed at when people talk about building lasting relationships online, but our friendship is probably one of the _very_ few things that hasn't changed since high school. All it took was one click and a few strokes on the keyboard, and _boom!_ We could share our fears and jokes with ease. And it's much easier to talk about your problems to someone who doesn't physically see them, or admit things you're embarrassed about if you don't have to stand face-to-face. Several stories and ideas had been tossed back and forth while we commiserated over the stupidity in our lives, and between the two of us I think we weathered through most of it pretty well. We jokingly started referring to each other as "otouto" and "nee-chan."

Did I mention that we were best friends? Just checking.

Finally meeting face-to-face had always been a goal in mind when the writing community we were a part of first brought it up. It would be a little "Con" of sorts, where we somehow collected members from across the world and threw everyone into a building to watch the chaos percolate. It was on the to-do list for sure. No definite plans had ever been set in stone, however.

I don't believe in fate, but I like to imagine that _some_ supernatural power decided we were dragging our feet and took matters into their own hands.

* * *

Because here was "Kail," with a bow slung over his back and a sword at his hip while he cried as if he had been lost for over a year.

I threw myself forward, embracing him tightly, and choked, " _Theron,_ how the fuck... what _happened?_ I was talking to you like normal, I swear, but somehow..."

"I-I don't know," he choked back. Holy shit, this was a hug of death. But could I blame the guy? I was pretty emotional, myself. "I just... _fuck,_ it's been _ages_ since..."

Just so I don't bore you with the gory details, I'll wrap this up and say we kind of happy-cried all over each other for a while. He blubbered, I whimpered, we both hugged and poked faces to make sure the other was real—you know, the works. It's still embarrassing to think about. I don't like people seeing me cry. But I guess it was warranted in this case.

From what I gathered (once we were both coherent), my "otouto" had somehow been trapped in what I was now officially dubbing "Awakening World" for well over a year. Whatever had dragged me here a month ago apparently decided he needed some extra time to get himself situated in Ylisse, before he made his way to Ferox as a "diplomat" of sorts. Aka "hang out in Ferox and write us if anything crazy happens." (He was totally a Ylissean spy, how cool is that?) Since I don't remember him mysteriously disappearing, he might've been taken the same time as me and simply tossed into an earlier part of the timeline. Like Laurent was in-game. We shared a solemn look after that comparison, with our combined knowledge of what the future could hold weighing heavily on our shoulders.

"I heard Lon'qu arrived for the tournament. Does that mean...?"

"That's kind of my fault," I explained, wincing. At his puzzled look, I pointed out, "Well, "Marth" appeared to challenge him, so at least we're not in the dark timeline."

"Oh, thank god."

"I kind of told him she was a _she_ and he, well, won. Their duel was totally bad-ass, you should've seen it."

Hand through his bangs, my best friend muttered, "I didn't know which timeline I was a part of, and I was afraid..."

"Not like the normal one is much better. So many people die." I groaned, massaging my temples. "And now Lon'qu is still Basilio's champion, which means I may have royally fucked up _everything_ and—"

"That's not the only change. Chrom and his Shepherds aren't Flavia's champions."

My head snapped up at that. " _What?_ Well, who the fuck _is_ it, then?!" I misheard him at first, exclaiming incredulously, "Wait, _Zhent?_ " _THAT major asshole? Oh gods, the world is doomed._

"No no no, not Zhent. He's West-Ferox, hundred-percent. It's _Zant._ " When I scrutinized him, he lifted defensive palms. "Hey, don't look at _me. I_ didn't do it. I've never even heard of the guy. I've been in the west, too."

"Great. Awesome. _Fantastic._ " I muttered, "Lon'qu is fighting some unknown person in the tournament, and "Marth" is still running around trying to fix her broken future while everything's gone to shit. I..." Face buried in my hands, I moaned, "This is _bullshit._ Why are we even here?!"

A hand on my shoulder was mildly comforting. "At least we're not alone anymore." It was more said for _his_ benefit than mine; four weeks couldn't really compare to forty-eight plus. I can only imagine what he must have felt after months of being lost, wondering when— _if_ —he'd ever get back home. But he still tried to cheer me up, offering, "And at least you'll get to see some dragons...?"

I peeked out from between fingers.

"Have _you_ seen any?"

"...well, no, not yet."

"But there _are_ dragons."

"Well, people ride wyverns in Plegia, and there's always the Valmese continent."

"Oh my god, that's right, Wyvern Valley is over there."

"You could go see it."

"I _could._ "

"Or you'll run into Plegians riding some."

"I'll _steal_ one of them."

"Pff—seriously?"

"What? It'll be just like _Grand Theft Auto_."

" _Grand Theft Auto: Ylisse Edition_."

"More like _Grand Theft Awakening._ "

" _Grand Theft Wyvern._ "

"Eh, I think _Grand Theft Draco_ would have a nicer ring to it."

"That sounds more like _Harry Potter._ "

" _Your face_ sounds like _Harry Potter._ "

After a deliberate pause, we both burst out laughing. It was a tad hysterical because, fuck, we were both trapped in another world with no idea how to get back to our own. He had tried getting to the Outrealms, but no dice. And we still were no closer to figuring out why we were here in the first place. Still, he was right; we had each other now, and that was a hell of a lot more than nothing.

"You're short."

Of course he'd point that out. "Do you wanna fight? I'll fight you, right now, you and me, _mano a mano_."

Getting a bit more serious, he asked me, "Have you seen combat yet?"

"Once." I shuddered, remembering the ghastly images that had gotten me out of bed in the first place. "We... were accosted by Risen on our way here. You?"

"More than once, I can tell you that. But only recently against Risen." I wanted to ask more, but he was all business and carried on before I could figure out the polite way to ask for his body count. Hint: There is none, so don't do it. "Did you fight?"

"Yeah. I used magic."

"Really?" He whistled, appearing impressed. "Same. It was easier to pick up at the beginning." Which made sense. I hadn't planned on being buff in case I was transported to a medieval world, either. "But after I realized I was stuck, I knew I needed all the skills I could get. And since magic isn't common in Ferox, I needed something else around here, and..." Hands gestured at the other weapons on his person.

"Magic took some trial-and-error," I admitted. "But obviously, weapons can't handle my crazy muscles, so I had to take what I could get." He snorted. "I was lucky that the guys who found me had a shit ton of tomes on them."

"Really? Huh... I know there are healers around here, but..."

"Oh, they probably weren't from Ferox. I still don't know what the hell a "Plegian accent" entails, but these dudes hung out with a dark mage."

Drawing back, he asked, "You were hanging out with Plegians?"

"Kind of? They were nice enough to get me out of the snow, at least, before they bound my hands and started arguing about selling or killing me." There was probably a better way to put that, because now Theron was looking rather alarmed, and I quickly moved to reassure him. I was fairly good at acting cavalier about it in my waking moments now, so it'd be strange if he had a heart attack over it. "It's okay, I obviously got out of there just fine! Funnily enough, _Zhent_ was the one who saved me."

"Wait! About a month ago? That was _you?_ "

"Yeah. What, has he told you all the ways he'd like to see me die?"

"No, but he has been arguing with the others about how suspicious your story was." Peering at me, he ventured, "Were you really running around half-naked in the snow?"

 _Jael,_ I told the ceiling, _I'm going to find the perfect hex as a thank you gift for spreading that rumor._

" _Ugh. No._ " I wiped at my face, as if that gesture could remove the annoyance. "I woke up in a dark mage outfit and found guys shoving books in my face before declaring me "pretty useless." Jael seems to expect that I'll suddenly strip down and try to catch another fever."

"I wouldn't recommend it."

"Thanks, Captain Obvious, I'll be sure to write that piece of sage advice down for later."

"Hey," he grinned, "I'm not a sage _yet._ Currently, I'm a bow knight."

"Theron..."

Clearing his throat, he corrected, "Actually, it's "Kail" here." Of course I recognized the name, but I gave him an odd look anyway because I couldn't figure out why he'd use that instead of his real name in anything other than a story. He finally admitted, "I... didn't know what was going on at first and thought I was dreaming up my own fanfiction."

"Pff, okay, you." I shoved him lightly, teasing, "Why "Kail," anyway? Is the name special or something? You used it for a lot of fics." Now _he_ was staring at _me._ "What?"

"...you _do_ remember my name, right?"

"Uh, _duh._ I've been using it this entire—"

Then it clicked.

"Oh. _Oh. OH._ "

And I smacked my forehead.

"Why didn't I notice before that it was part of your Chinese name?! Ugh, and you've been using Kail for years now! I'm such an _idioooot._ "

He started patting my back in mock-sympathy.

"It's okay, nee-chan... admitting that you make mistakes won't _Kail_ you."

Now _he_ was teasing. So not fair. I shoved him again, sulking when he hardly budged. _Definitely fixing the twig-arm situation ASAP._

* * *

To say the arena was packed was laughable. "Packed" held the implication that every seat was filled; here, every _square inch_ was taken up by someone screaming for glorious combat. It brought me back to the college football games my father's family loved to attend, and although I had never been much for competition the energy in the air never failed to get me pumped. Here, it buzzed in my fingertips, and a few sparks startled the people I squeezed past in the hopes of finding a spot. Whatever organization was present here (it was possible, Ferox had already revealed many other surprises) was lost on me as the roars and chants nearly made me deaf.

Theron—or Kail, since I had to help him stick to his alias now—had been called to talk to Basilio about one thing or another and promised to meet up with me after I enjoyed the tournament. The biggest problem was not only finding an empty inch to squeeze into, but finding the _right_ inch. I'd come in on one side only to find everyone here shouting for "Zant" to seize the win, and there was no way I'd manage to get back out before the fight began. _Great. Guess I'll just pretend I didn't get lost._ Now for the actual "finding a spot" thing. This was going to be fun.

"Pardon me! Sorry! Ack, watch the elbows. Pardon me, 'xcuse me, tiny person coming through—"

 _Gods, is EVERY Feroxi in the stands today?!_

" _To Flavia,_ " one man suddenly screamed in my ear, shaking my shoulder in mistaken camaraderie. Smiling through the pain, I nodded emphatically until he released me to holler alongside his buddies. They might've been drunk. You could never tell at these sorts of events.

Stumbling through a few more rambunctious clusters, I was practically breathless by the time I managed to make it to the third row. I'm not generally claustrophobic, but I don't deal well with massive crowds of people and this was pushing me to my limits. _This is payback for always canceling on friends to be a hermit at home, isn't it?_ I was about to collapse on the floor and just ask for a play-by-play of the event when I noticed someone was shouting for my attention—or I assumed I was the only one the "hey, you, ma'am" could refer to. I turned—

—and gaped at the person forcing a path through the people-sea to usher me towards a semi-calm portion of the stadium.

 _Holy shit, what?_

I didn't recognize the manly jaw or the slicked back hair, but not many people sported snow-white locks, and _no one_ had that vaguely Plegian jacket and the Brand of Grima on the back of their hand... except for one.

"Come on," Robin shouted over the crowd, finally at my elbow to guide me along. "You can sit with us! These people seem liable to trample the unprepared!"

 ***** "R-right," I squeaked, still kind of staring at his face. It wasn't the _default-_ default I was used to from his crossover in the _Smash Brothers_ series. _Compared to that baby-face, this guy looks pretty old. And tall. Pretty buff, too. Manly chin, much?_ But there was no mistaking who it was. I had to mentally chant not to call him by his default name until we were introduced, just in case.

"I saved her," he told his comrades, earning praise and teasing in equal parts. "We've got room for one more, right?" It was a bit of a squeeze, but he got me a space between Miriel and Virion before returning to stand beside the royal siblings.

"Fairest maiden! It must be fate that we meet, your brilliance is—"

"Not interested," I cut in, shutting _that_ down right quick. It wasn't like I hadn't dealt with pushy guys at work before. _At least he smells nicer._ I inched away from him—or tried to, there really was no room here—before turning to Miriel and asking, "Who was that man? The, er, one who saved me?"

Miriel adjusted her spectacles.

"The gentleman who deviated from our congregationand trawled you out of the teeming, malodorous throng refers to himself by the appellation "Robin." "

"Ah, okay! My gratitude!" _You know, she's not difficult to understand; worse comes to worst, you use context clues._

"This provocative, vacuous ignoramus is Virion. I am Miriel." Her fingers went to her glasses again, causing me to adjust my own in reflex. _Glasses-wearers unite?_ "Our heterogeneous militia hails from the Halidom of Ylisse."

"Huh. You're a long way from home," I commented, despite knowing exactly what was going on. Or, at least, I _hoped_ I did. Many things had changed, so maybe I shouldn't have been so confident about that anymore.

"Our commander entreated the cooperation of the sovereign of this nation to stifle the warmonger on the Plegian throne. Regrettably, we've arrived during what appears to be a reelection."

"I'm not sure you can really call this a reelection. More like a sanctioned beatdown."

"Indeed. Chrom attempted to expedite the brutish practice by offering his own assistance, however—"

 ***** A loud roar from the crowd cut off our conversation. Something new was happening down in the field, but various tall people kept me from seeing just what it was. "Agh, hey— _hey,_ ex _cuse_ me—" No dice. Frustrated enough to growl, a tap on my shoulder made me squeak before I realized that Kellam had been standing beside me as well. _Oh, wow, I thought the game was just making a joke, but he actually IS a ninja._ I couldn't see how; he was so tall, and his armor of course so bulky, that he should've stuck out like... well, a man in full armor standing in a crowded stadium.

"If you want," he offered kindly, "I could give you a boost. It's not like anyone sees me, anyway."

 ***** The poor, poor man.

"Normally I make it a rule to refuse all "pick up lines," but in this case I think I'll make an exception." Laughing at my own joke, I then focused on getting that promised lift without falling down the stands and breaking my neck. That'd be a pretty anticlimactic way to die in this world.

When I was finally sitting on one of Kellam's armored shoulders like a child, I peered over the crowd to see just who Lon'qu was dueling against. There he stood, sword in hand, and... _Cheater's wearing a hood. Come on!_ Just who was this mysterious "Zant" that had never, from what I could remember, been given the slightest mention in-game? If Flavia had chosen him over Chrom, who as long as nothing changed _there_ had given her guards quite the smackdown, he _had_ to be something. They were facing off, preternaturally still—but the instant the gong thundered, they were both at each other's throats like dogs.

"Holy shit!"

 ***** If I had thought Lon'qu was ferocious against Lucina, then this was a true display of his merciless strength and ridiculous speed. It was difficult to track even this close to the front row; I had to find grooves in my temporary-seat to hold onto so I didn't fall as I leaned forward. He charged forward, leapt back, and then _did a flip_ to try slicing up his opponent. _Hot damn, that's cool!_ Whether it was the crowd or the stakes that fueled him, he was putting a lot of anime fight sequences I'd seen to shame.

"They're both strong," the knight commented below. I nearly fell over. _Shit, I'm sitting on his shoulder and I STILL almost forgot he was there._

"Hell, yeah, they are." Grinning, I leaned over his head to be heard over the ruckus around us. "I don't know who this Zant guy is, but he's basically up against a sword _master_. He'd _better_ be good!"

"Who's his opponent?"

 ***** "The west champion is Lon'qu." Squirming until I'd found a new comfortable position, I imagined how Basilio would be boasting the first chance he got. _I don't know if flips and spins are normal, but regardless, it's awesome to watch._ I decided to take up the mantle of "manly cheerleader" in his absence. _Rah, rah, go Team West-Ferox!_ "He's incredibly skilled, and disciplined, and kicks all sorts of ass! Arse. Whatever. When our caravan was accosted by Risen on the way here, he sliced and diced them like potatoes!"

"Wait, Risen? _This_ far north?"

"Yeah, it was scary as hell, but he—" The duelists suddenly parted, or rather Lon'qu had put some distance between him and his opponent. He looked to be in worse shape than the Zant guy. "What the hell's going on down there? Agh, I wish I could hear what they were saying!"

"I bet I could sneak us down there. I'm invisible, and you might be by association."

"Tempting, but I don't think that's—"

I stopped, and the entire stadium nearly fell silent after the east champion pulled back his left sleeve—and his _entire arm transformed._ Like, it didn't just change color, it became a scaly, armored _claw._

The others around us began shouting excitedly, the roar swallowing my hilariously cracked voice, "What the _fuck?!_ "

Lon'qu reacted faster than all of us; he had zipped forward to strike this monstrous appendage only to have it _blocked_ and _held_ with apparent ease. It was then released, and he immediately jumped back from the whirling inferno... and that's when the show _really_ started.

Two arms came down— _wham wham_ —and dug into the ground, preceding the sudden snap of two massive wings jutting out. The wingspan was _ridiculous,_ and I only barely registered what that meant before the fire died out and revealed a _massive, fire-breathing winged lizard_ that reared back to roar at the stadium and its audience.

Clutching the sides of Kellam's face in fearful excitement, I screamed over his head, " _Is that a fucking dragon?!_ "

"Y-yeah... that's a dragon."

 ***** Its scales were black as coal, but looked sturdier than diamonds. They were line thicker on its back and torso, like armor, and something similar to vents sat parallel to its spine emitting dark smoke. To be honest, it reminded me of most western-style dragons, and I wondered what the hell it was doing in the Awakening World and in Regna Ferox's tournament.

Wings unfurled as it returned to all fours, and then suddenly it was shooting some lava-like substance at Lon'qu and I was screaming for him to get the hell out of there. He didn't need anyone to tell him that of course, as he had the good sense to dive and run away from a giant goddamn dragon. _Bragging rights and winning Basilio the tournament is NOT worth it!_ Yet the moment the stream of napalm let up, the swordsman veered straight for it as if he fully intended on finishing this fight. _NO, THE EXIT'S THE OTHER WAY!_

 ***** He rolled underneath another freakin' laser and tried for a swipe across the plates on the dragon's chest, to no avail. They were much too thick. Slipping around deadly claws, he landed a much more successful hit on its underbelly. Then the dragon took flight, and I sat in stunned disbelief as Lon'qu was suddenly reenacting a boss fight worthy of a _Monster Hunter_ game.

"What the _hell,_ " I breathed, still processing the past minute of combat.

Lon'qu was fighting a dragon. A _manakete,_ actually. It—wait, Zant was still a he, he hadn't lost his gender by transforming. _He_ wasn't a divine dragon like Tiki or (presumably) Nowi. He certainly looked far different from them. Considering his penchant for fire, I could only imagine that was the tribe he belonged to. It was strange that this was the first time I was seeing such a race in the _Awakening_ period of the _Fire Emblem_ series. Surely if they were still around, they would've featured in the plot somewhere? Then again, Bantu was mentioned in passing, so perhaps there _were_ still others hanging around, in quiet.

This was far from "quiet." What the hell was a _fire manakete_ doing as Flavia's champion?

Speaking of Zant, he was hovering above the center of the arena doing _something_ with his liquid fire...

 _BOOM!_

When my ears stopped ringing and I could make sense of the world again, I realized that the deafening explosion had knocked everyone over and on top of each other. This included me and my invisible chair; we had to fumble with awkward apologies before we managed to extract ourselves from the pile of Shepherds and Feroxi. (It was a miracle nobody was crushed beneath all of that armor.) By the time Kellam had helped me back onto my perch, Zant was rising from the ground with a new gash on his neck and Lon'qu was— _Oh gods, how badly burned IS he?!_ His entire upper body was exposed, and bloody.

"Someone stop the damn match!" Zant was landing again, but when Lon'qu attempted another strike the dragon simply backhanded him out of the way. "Shit, get a doctor or something!"

"Lon'qu is getting back up," Kellam pointed out. It was a flimsy reassurance that the man was too stubborn to stay down. "Whoa! Zant is normal again!" Indeed, he had taken manakete form once more.

Steel clashed, and then an awful noise rang throughout the arena. The sword in Lon'qu's hand shattered.

Then he punched Zant in the face.

" _Whoo!_ " I almost hopped right off of Kellam's shoulder. I cheered, "Yeah, he's really _dragon ass_ now! Show him who's boss!"

Now they were scuffling in the dirt. Was it strange that this was a relief, after all of the craziness I'd just witnessed? It probably was. Oh, well. _As long as Lon'qu doesn't have to fight through the fire and the flames anymore._ I think he had dealt with enough "dragon force" for the day.

Just when he was going for one last good hit to take the victory for his khan... Zant grabbed his shoulders and jerked to _slam_ their foreheads together.

"Oh, shit!"

 ***** The stillness was broken when the myrmidon crumpled backwards. He was out cold. His opponent's hood was finally removed, revealing Zant to have the horns even when not all scaly. And there stood the victor.

People hollered, coins clinked, and I swore.

"Healers are going to him, right?"

Then Zant collapsed.

"Healers are going to _them,_ right?"

"I mean, it only makes sense—"

" _Zant! Zant! Zant!_ "

" _For Flavia!_ "

As expected, Feroxi celebrated by competing for the loudest voice and lifting everything but the chairs no one was using anymore over their heads. I was surrounded by a sea of steel pointed at the sky as if someone had told them to recreate the "farewell to Dumbledore" scene from _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_. I noticed figures running across the field and hoped those were the healers those two desperately needed. If I had thought the cheers were booming before, now they were getting closer to dragon-showing-off-for-the-crowd levels.

"I guess this is a good thing," I muttered to no one. _Flavia will support Ylisse since she's in power, anyway._ That was the hope, anyway. It was simply distressing, not only to see Lon'qu lose but to watch him being carried out of the arena, unconscious. I'd mistakenly thought of the man as invincible, remembering old playthroughs where his stats had been beastly. He had mowed through most opposition like a killing machine, and after watching him in action I'd assumed it would be exactly the same.

But humans are not machines, or calculated algorithms in a combat formula. They are fallible.

 _This isn't a game,_ came the reminder once more. How bizarre to need to keep telling myself that fact. I was _living_ it.

I patted Kellam's shoulder, beginning to say that I'd like some help down now, but I was overridden by eager warriors and fighters wanting to show their joy in the best way they knew how. I was grabbed by first one, then _several_ pairs of hands, and Kellam was likely left watching in bewilderment as I tried and failed to squirm out of a predicament I had already learned was inevitable within the second week of my stay: Being kidnapped, and held over Feroxi heads like a prize.

 ***** "God damn it, not _again! Guys!_ I know this is hard to grasp, but _I'm not a toy!_ " I managed to twist enough to wave goodbye to Kellam and the rest of the Shepherds, shouting, "See you all at the feast!"

Because what was a night after an epic battle without a feast? What can I say, Regna Ferox knows what's up.

.

* * *

 _New game: How many chapters can the author end with someone being carried off into the distance? Count so far: Two out of three. (Bonus: Three scenes out of nine end with the people-carrying. Right on.)_

 _Part of my interest in a more deliberate FE:A self-insert fic (as opposed to a character semi-based off of me, as in my "Just wait ..." story) was sparked by a fanfic titled "Wasted," by MasterOfThisGuise. It's hilarious and dark in separate turns and never fails to entertain me. (Patiently eager for an update on that one, hee.)_

 _-Dragon_

 _P.S.: Ah yes, I really enjoyed the needlessly foreshadowing lines about dragons in the last two chapters. It feels like I just finished knitting a shitty sweater: Dumb, yet satisfying. *Hakuna Matata's outta here*_


	4. Wait, what did you just call me?

_**Hey! Before you read further, check back on Chapter Three! I made some changes that MIGHT be important, indicated by the asterisks next to the edited paragraphs. Look for the *, guys!** (Unless you're a first-time reader, in which case you didn't see the unedited version. Who says coming late to the party is a bad thing?)_

 _Also, there's a lot of talking in this chapter. Beware!_

* * *

.

Before anyone celebrated anything, or stuffed their faces with grub and alcohol, there was an injured champion to check on.

Well, two.

Obviously, I felt bad for the dragon-man. He got his neck sliced, for crying out loud—well, his dragon neck, but that's still dangerous. But I knew Lon'qu better than I did this "Zant" guy and it was kind of, sort of, maybe my fault that he had to fight against a freakin' dragon in the first place. If I had left stuff alone, maybe Lucina would've had some practice against defeating intimidating dragons. Or maybe she would've died via lava plume, or maybe it was _because_ I changed things that Chrom wasn't the east champion. I don't know, it's all speculation at this point. I _really_ shouldn't have to contemplate my ramifications on the space-time continuum of any reality, let alone one I had considered fictional until about a month ago.

(I was _still_ having issues with that, by the way. Didn't know you could wake up practically a month straight and _still_ think you were dreaming, but boy, you sure can. It's disorienting and depressing as hell.)

But I digress. The instant my feet were back on the ground, I was checking up on the surly myrmidon.

The infirmary wasn't packed like I thought it was going to be, but it was still decently filled. It didn't always take a dragon to make a fighter seek medical attention. And running the place, efficient as always, was a face I was beginning to think was following me around Ferox. I hailed him with a smile, grateful for these fleeting instants of familiarity I'd developed here.

"Do you just heal _everyone_ in Ferox?"

"Sure looks that way," Jael chuckled, clasping my arm in greeting. His dwarfed it, but I was used to that around here. He smiled, joking, "Here to see whether your favorite swordsman will make it?" I rolled my eyes.

"He'll be fine," I argued, despite the fact that he was right. _That "favorite swordsman" thing better not turn into a running gag._ It had the beginnings of one, for sure. (Trust me: I'm a writer, I know these things.) Shaking my head at his grin, I couldn't help asking, "How long will he be feeling it, though? Burns aren't fun."

"I'll be working on him. He might even make it to the evening feast."

"Gosh, you're so humble."

His laughter was interrupted by a booming female voice, bringing my attention to the new Khan Regnant striding through the door. _Oh, damn, she looks like a super bad-ass, in-person. Red and white is good on her, in my totally expert opinion._ Wild blonde hair pulled into a poof-y ponytail, it bobbed as Flavia inquired, "Where's my champion?"

"He's enjoying the peace and quiet as he recovers," Jael responded, grinning wryly. "He gave us quite a scare with that neck injury."

I glanced at the cot he referred to, noticing that was where the manakete was resting a fair distance from Lon'qu. Pointed ears, an angled jaw and cheekbones... He reminded me of an elf with dark shaggy hair, to be honest. And horns. _I should call him Legolas._ I kept this to myself, of course, and watched with interest as Flavia strode over and rummaged through the man's belongings to bring out a stone looking something like a fiery diamond. Wait, was that his dragonstone? _Um, should we be letting her take that?_

"Ma'am?"

Seeing my concern, Flavia declared, "I'll hold onto it while he rests. My champion only trusts me, or my right hand, to keep it safe." She turned to Jael, informing him, "That neck isn't as serious as it may be to us, although don't neglect it by any means. Manakete are a hell of a lot sturdier than we give them credit for."

"Yes, ma'am." And with that, the older man returned to Zant's cot, muttering incantations as he waved the staff back and forth. Healing magic was definitely useful. Perhaps I should attempt picking that up as well.

"You." I jumped. Yep, she was referring to me. "Basilio's said some interesting things about you, girl. Walk with me."

 _Well, I can't do anything here except get in the way._ So I took her up on that offer, not that I really think refusing her was an option. Something about Flavia, like Basilio, suggested she was going to get her way in the end. _It's probably the fact that she demands instead of asks._ She was a leader, not a follower. _I can get behind that attitude._ Better than being a leader, myself.

Glancing sideways at her bouncing ponytail, a thought struck me to ask for a favor. "Uh, excuse me, ma'am... do you have any hair ties to spare?"

It was a relief to _finally_ have all of my own dark hair up. _So much hassle! I don't know why I still have it this long._ Oh, right, my friends threatened to end me if I cut it too short again. That had been an interesting couple of months. Still, it was much easier to deal with in a ponytail versus free and in my face. _Probably safer in combat, too._ Was that Flavia's reason, or did she just like the way it looked? ("Both," my brain supplied _a la_ The Road to El Dorado. "Both is good.")

When she entered a hall where Chrom and his lead men were quietly milling about, she boomed, "Happy, prince? You'll have your support after all."

"Very much so," he agreed. I couldn't help staring because, well, _blue hair what the hell,_ and he noticed. "Hm? Who's this?"

The woman slapped me on the back, causing me to squeak and stumble forward a bit. It seemed all Feroxi habits included embarrassing me at every turn. "This is one of Basilio's tagalongs. Speaking of, where is that oaf? He must've turned tail the moment he realized _I_ had the better warrior."

"Bah ha! 'Fraid not!"

 _Ah, there he is,_ I thought warmly. Damn, their loud behavior grew on you after a while. It had a blunt sincerity to it.

"This here mouse," he explained as he walked up, "is tougher than she looks." He slapped the other side of my back, which detracted from the credibility of his words as I nearly fell over.

"Really? Erm..." Chrom didn't look so convinced, which I couldn't really blame him for. _Still, give me a break, man._ "She's... well, surprises come in small packages?" _Wow, rude._ I wasn't insecure about my height, but...

"I'm not _that_ small," I couldn't help retorting, only realizing afterwards that I was back-talking a prince. Frederick did _not_ look happy. Robin seemed amused more than anything else. _Oops. Oh well, he's casual enough, rolling with it._ "Come on, I'm five-foot-one. That's at least average, or something. Sir, tell him!"

But Basilio just laughed, a beefy hand grasping my shoulder. "Don't let her pretty face fool you. She's got quite the mouth on her!"

"Aw," I mock-cooed, "you think I'm pretty." He started laughing again, encouraging me to continue being a smart-aleck. "I'm sure you lament only having one good eye to adore me with."

"See? Sharp tongue, that one!"

"I like her," Flavia declared. I couldn't help preening a bit. _SWEET. I entertain two-out-of-two khans!_ She then returned to business, telling the prince, "I offer my troops for your cause, including my champion. Imagine their surprise when they realize what they're up against!"

"Are we volunteering men?" Basilio rubbed at his beard, a grin sprouting on his smug face. "Well, then! I offer _my_ champion! Barring a dragon or two, Lon'qu is the best of the best!"

 _Always with the praise._ How cute.

Then I realized my chance was here, and I needed to jump before I missed it.

"I'll come, too!"

Eyes turned to me, inquisitive or skeptical, and I straightened when I noticed Robin's calculating gaze and Frederick the Wary's stern frown. Okay, _now_ was the part where I made myself seem _super_ useful and—

"Bah ha, eager to scrub more pots, lass?"

I grimaced. _God damn it, man._

" _No,_ sir, but I'll do what I'm ordered to do." I realized, subconsciously, I was standing at attention, steadily meeting Chrom's gaze. Huh. _Nothing like a militia's stare to bring out the cadet in ya._ At least it made me look more professional. "I also have some magic at my disposal."

"You wield magic?" When I confirmed this, the lord became thoughtful as he murmured, "A Feroxi who uses tomes..."

"Actually," I corrected, "I'm not from around here. I'm not entirely sure how I _got_ here in the first place."

I tried not to notice how Robin perked up at that. He was of course the one to inquire, "What do you mean by that?"

"I woke up in Ferox to find a bunch of guys—probably Plegian—shoving tomes in my face and arguing about selling or killing me. I want to figure out why." Grumbling, I added, "I'm a _long_ way away from home." _And the award for "understatement of the century" goes to..._

"...hm."

Chrom looked to his tactician. "What are you thinking, Robin?"

"I'm thinking," he answered cheerfully, "that we'd be glad to have you, ma'am."

I tried to curb my enthusiasm, but he still had an excited expression to grin at because I somehow hadn't expected it to be that easy. _Chrom may accept anyone from amnesiacs to reformed Plegians into his fold, but I thought that was just a gaming mechanic to have more units to use._ I always mentally prepared for worst-case scenario so, in situations like these, I was either pleasantly surprised or I was proven right. I still appreciated that it was the former this time, of course.

"Bah ha ha!" That hand slapped my back again, but this time I (mostly) kept my footing. _Ha! Getting better at that!_ "Can't stand to leave your favorite swordsman to fend for himself, can you? You fell for him _hard!_ " _Oh, no, he didn't._

"Sir, you are positively the _worst._ " I furrowed my brow, cutting through his laughter with a sharp, "Hold on, you weren't there for that incident! How did you—"

"Word travels fast in Ferox, lass!" Another _thump_ that I stubbornly held my ground against, causing his grin to widen. "Especially when it concerns my champion!"

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised." Rolling my eyes to the ceiling, this reminded me about my other self-appointed task. "I'm leaving before you start matchmaking. Got enough of that at home." I smiled sweetly. "Try not to lose your _other_ eye while I'm gone!"

"They'll have to pry it out of my corpse! Bah ha ha!"

I wasn't normally affected by macabre imagery, after the many violent and spooky games I've played or watched footage of, but I turned my back on everyone to hide the grimace this statement brought on. Because it reminded me of the Risen, and the idea that I'd just volunteered to deal with them on a more regular basis. I didn't know how the reality of randomly spawning undead creatures would work, but it could hardly be as simple to deal with as the game had been. I just had to stick around long enough to figure things out, I told myself. Then I could get out of this weird dream-turned-real and get back to the obligations I'd left behind.

Shit, I was going to miss these people, though. Basilio was so much warmer in-person, and seeing how cool Lucina and Lon'qu were... fiction didn't do them justice.

Regardless, I was going back to see if this Zant person was awake. I had a few questions for this anomaly, namely concerning his dragon-y presence in the tournament. But he wasn't in the infirmary when I returned; Jael told me he had likely gone to find his own bed. _Dammit, this fortress is like a maze!_ How was I going to find him?

My first idea ended up being a lucky guess, which was going to the room where all of the Feroxi were feasting and being jovial folk. The khans had beaten me there, as had Zant; I entered from one side and caught sight of him leaving through the other. _Unless there are OTHER people walking around with horns._ Also he was still shirtless. I guess guys weren't obligated to wear shirts, but he could've at least grabbed a spare before leaving the healer's room. _Isn't he freezing?_

Carefully, I followed the manakete through the halls, hesitant to call out but still really wanting to talk to him, until he finally slipped into what had to be his room. I stood indecisively for a while, weighing the pros and cons of bothering a dragon so soon after being bludgeoned and sliced by another warrior. Ultimately, the "he's a dragon" pro won out, and I scurried over to knock on the door before he had a chance to lie down and be totally unwilling to converse. Or that was the hope, anyway.

First thing I said upon entering the door was a hurried, "So! You're a dragon!"

At the look on his face, that probably wasn't the smartest way to start out this conversation. I cleared my throat and tried not to shout this time.

"So. You're a dragon?"

 _...nailed it._

With a voice grumpier than I expected for a majestic creature from fairytales, he replied, "Yes, a very tired dragon who would appreciate it if you kept it down."

We locked gazes, and I noted the wound at his neck had vanished without a trace. _Wow, manakete are crazy._ And he had put on a shirt! How thoughtful.

"Eh, sorry about that." I shut the door behind me, realizing it probably wouldn't look so good if someone caught me standing in the doorway. _I already have people thinking I'm goo-goo for ONE champion, no need to add to the list._ "Uh, so, your name is "Zant," right?" I made sure to pronounce it correct, remembering my confusion with Kail earlier today. He confirmed this with a nod. "Where did you come from? I didn't think Ferox had many dragons running around. ...or any. ...ever."

 _Like, really. The only manakete mentioned are Naga and Grima (as gods), Nowi and her daughter, and Bantu (in a passing reference)._ It was a sad thought, but perhaps by Chrom's time most of the various dragon species had died out, save for wyverns?

Shrugging, he explained tiredly, "Hard to say. We don't exactly keep track of each other. As for where I came from, west is the shortest answer. From Valm through Ferox, to here."

Huh, he had definitely traveled a fair bit of distance to get here. I wondered what had made him come all the way to Ferox to fight in a tournament. Perhaps thousands of years had bored him?

He sat on the side of his bed, still scrutinizing me. "I'm sorry, did you need me for something?" I was keeping him from much needed rest, but I _needed_ to know why things were different. _He has plenty of time to sleep,_ I reasoned. _Like, several of my lifetimes._

"I was just curious about Flavia having a giant dragon on her side. That wasn't what... it wasn't expected." _Yikes, no mentioning of plots or scripts, idiot!_ "I was thinking Lon'qu's opponent would be more..." How _does_ one describe the younger brother of the Exalt? "Ylissean human-y. With blue anime hair. And a boycott against sleeves that cover his cool tattoo."

He stiffened, clutching at his neck. The injury was gone, but there might have been lingering pain. _He DID get cut with a sword Inuyasha-style._ Then I realized what I had said and covered an awkward cough.

"Uh, wait, don't ask what anime is, not important."

"Sorry. Neck still stings." Hand falling back into his lap, Zant continued, "Anyway, I highly doubt anybody outside my tribe would wish to walk through boiling fire resin. I simply boxed the prince in and forced him to yield, and most of that fight was fought with swords."

"I guess it's a credit to the West Champion's skill that you had to use your dragon-powers to beat him, then? Maybe that'll give him solace."

 _...ooookay, awkward silence is awkward._ Things were really awkward here. Why were they so awkward? _Why can't I be calm and collected in front of a dragon?_

I ventured slowly, "Sooo... I noticed you could morph parts of your body to be dragon-y? Is that... _normal_ for your tribe? I never saw—"

 _NO._

"Er, never _read_ anything about that, other than some Asian-style—"

 _MEGAN COME ON._

"Er, _Chon'sin_ -style stories of dragons."

...hm. Was that accurate?

I frowned, muttering to myself, "Wait, _would_ that be Chon'sin? The trailers didn't specify... hmm..."

Before I had magically been transported into the Awakening World, I'd been excited about eventually getting my hands on the next installment in the series. I hadn't done a lot of research into the game (games?) yet, but from some of the trailers I'd assumed it was partially inspired by eastern culture like Chon'sin was. But would a direct comparison work between them all? I wasn't aware of all of the nuances and what references they made to my reality, and I didn't want to make assumptions on the matter.

"Trailers?"

I came back to the present to see Zant had raised an eyebrow in my direction. _UH._

"... _er._ " I frantically waved away my words, floundering for an explanation that made sense in this time and place. "Uh, I mean, books! The books from... um. That one place?"

Okay, that was lame even for _me_. I winced.

"I'm from a land _very, very_ far away, so using words that everyone knows around here is hard." I gestured vaguely at the air in front of me, adding, "I don't have a convenient little device in my pocket anymore to translate things into Feroxi-nese or whatever."

Whatever I had been expecting after my long-winded insert-foot-into-mouth session, it wasn't the dragon-man breaking out into giggles, and then guffawing on his bed as if he'd just played the world's best prank on me. Which at this point I wasn't ruling out, because he had done things I hadn't expecting manakete to do and I wasn't sure I wanted to know what _else_ he was capable of. Summoning liquid napalm was one thing, but I was seriously waiting for this man to admit that he was reading my mind or was actually just an elaborate illusion from some wizard-ninja bullshit.

His laughter didn't die down quickly, so I was staring for quite some time before finally broaching, "...uh. Not that I don't enjoy being the butt of the joke—that happens a lot—but what's so funny?" I blinked a few times, feeling very much like the clueless main character in a novel waiting for some exposition to drop.

With this, he found calm to answer my question. "Unless you are an absolute paradigm of the art, you cannot lie to a manakete." _Well, Nah says as much to Cynthia in their A-Support._ "Ever since the word "anime" was backtracked, you've reeked of deceit."

 _ACK._ That was close enough to mind-reading to make me worried!

"I smelled no malice, so I decided to keep going and watch you bumble. You're a terrible liar, girl."

My smile was more of a wince, somewhere between annoyance and guilt. _Don't call me "girl," BOY._ Being caught in a lie, or something like it, was an awful experience. "Cool? I guess it _was_ kind of dumb to lie. Silly me? And I'm... glad you don't take offense to my lying...?"

The smile I earned was a relief.

"As long as you speak truthfully from now on, I'll continue not to."

 _Aye, aye, cap-i-ton!_

"To answer your earlier question, this—" He lifted an arm, which morphed into something more draconic that looked _really freakin' cool._ "—is something I was always able to do. I don't exactly know if it's common amongst my kin."

His gaze slid away, a frown creeping in. "I'm... not exactly close to my tribe."

 _Megan's Pro-Tips Part Two: Don't ask dragons about their pasts. They've lived long enough to see some shit._

"Oh. I'm sorry?" The last thing I wanted to do was annoy or depress him. Clearing my throat, I continued more cheerfully, "But, yeah! It's really freakin' cool! I've always been a big fan of dragons, and... and I'm talking to one _right now!_ How crazy is that?!"

It hit me again, and I couldn't help a quiet squeal. _Dragons are real here! Maybe I can detour a bit and see the sights before I leave!_

Feeling a little embarrassed, I explained to him, "Sorry, I, ehe, kind of think dragons are really cool. Like, _really_ cool." _Super cool, uber cool, like so-far-beyond-anything-on-this-mortal-plane cool._ "I called myself "The Dragon Lover" back home, I'm so obsessed with them."

 _...wait._ That name wasn't exactly innocent-sounding. "...er. Is that too weird?" Why hadn't I thought about that before?

"Not particularly, as long as it's a modest love." I tried not to look too relieved as he went on. "Now, would it trouble you if I asked a question? And don't be witty," he continued, voice sharp, "that gets old."

"Uh, no, sure, go ahead. Shoot. Wait..." Firearms didn't exist in any of the _Fire Emblem_ games. Oh... of course. "Yeah, "shoot" works, bows shoot arrows and stuff."

 _Megan, you're rambling again._ I cleared my throat once more, jaw rigid to keep me from spouting more random nonsense because I was face-to-face with a dragon. _How more fantastical can you get?_

Leaning back, Zant asked me, sporting the biggest grin, "Would Chrom fit well in _Fairy Tail?_ "

"In _a_ fairytale, or in _Fairy Tail?_ " Immediately after, I hummed as I admitted to myself, "Actually, both, I gue—"

Brakes, brakes! Full-on reverse!

"Wait. Wait, _what?_ How do... is anime a thing here? People know about _anime_ here?"

Things had just gotten more fantastical.

"Was that not covered in the games? Er, wait, I mean—"

Zant chuckled, informing me, "You are the worst actor _ever,_ Megan."

"Hey, it's _difficult_ —wait, how do you know my name?" Thinking back, I pointed out as he continued to enjoy himself, "I didn't introduce myself, did I? Or am I just Feroxi-famous for my "falling" joke?" That incident was going to follow me to my grave, even after I returned home.

When Mr. Chuckles could finally get a word out, he answered, "Oh, we've met plenty of times in the past, this is just our first face-to-face." Then he sighed. "I just wish it were under better circumstances."

The time for fun and games was over. Staring at him intently, I ordered, "Okay, let's both speak plainly so we _all_ get the answers we need."

I paused, debating on being delicate or going all-in.

 _Eh, I already knew the answer to that one._

"...are you not from this world? Like me?"

"No, I'm not from this world."

The wind in my sails left all at once.

"Wow. Is... is someone just picking people at random to throw into Ferox?" I squinted, trying and failing to recognize him. _This is just like with Theron-Kail._ "How do you know me? In real life? Internet? Some other dimension I wasn't aware of?"

"Does the name Perfect Oblivion ring any bells?"

Oh yeah, it did.

 _Holy shit!_

That name belonged to a user from the same writing group I'd met "Kail" in. We weren't nearly as close, but fairly recently (pre-interdimensional kidnapping) he had begun messaging me about _Fire Emblem_ after realizing I played _Awakening._ It was fun to talk to someone new about favorite characters and classes, or the various plot points that we enjoyed or dissected. He had some interesting ideas to explore, and he reassured me on the not-suckiness of my writing.

And now he was romping around Awakening World with claws and wings? What was next? The forums' moderator who'd been MIA for years suddenly popping out of the ground as a talking wolf?

"No. Fucking. _Way!_ You're here, too?!"

I raced over, patting his horns in disbelief. They were totally real, and they were totally on his head. _Oblivion's_ head.

"And as a _dragon?_ Dude! Not fair! At all!"

"Ack, what did I say about being loud?"

My hands rose to muffle my next words.

"Sorry, sorry, inside-voice activated—" The groan was still very audible, filled with all of the contempt for the universe's unfairness. "—but seriously, I get thrown into the snow in Plegian underwear, and _you_ are practically Natsu over here with a fire in your belly. I'm calling _total BS_."

Expression darkening, Zant countered, "Being a dragon is not as glamorous as you may think." His hands didn't move, but his _voice_ was very much like a pointing finger. " _You_ got thrown in the snow, _I_ got my vitals acquainted with an axe—and my self-preservation instincts could have had me killing an innocent village along with the bandit group. I think different, I feel different, I sense different. I burned bandits alive and I felt _nothing._ "

 _...oh._

"I... well."

There were some mentions of manakete and their differing perspectives on mortality, and in fact one from the fire tribe had been credited (I believe, speaking to Roy) to accusing all of his kin of not feeling emotions as strongly as humans. This didn't mean they were all emotionless, certainly with Tiki's past and Nowi's present childishness... but I can't imagine how awful it must feel to suddenly _not_ feel human anymore, because you _weren't_.

I took a deep breath. My heart went out to him.

"Obviously, I can't say I understand. My transformation was more mortifying than horrifying." Even for the more serious matters, nightmares and constant magical exhaustion weren't exactly the same as believing you were losing your humanity. Still, I continued quietly, "But, dragon or not, you're still you. Maybe focusing on your memories from _our_ world will help keep that in check?"

"I hope so, Megan. I hope so." Gods, he sounded so _weary._ How much of that was from the tournament? "I'm just worried my manakete mind is stronger."

 _Okay, I'm getting uncomfortable flashbacks to other world weary men._ I needed to lighten the mood around here.

"Psh!" I lightly punched his shoulder, affecting a happier tone as I challenged, "Stronger? It's basically a hatchling! You've been human _far_ longer than you've been a manakete!"

Of course, Kail had been dropped into Awakening World more than a year prior...

"...right? Er, how long _have_ you been here?"

Instead of answering that question, his eyes widened as he posed, "Hey, you wouldn't happen to know why Lucina wasn't the one in the arena?" The genuine curiosity sounded real, which supported my theory that manakete weren't emotionless, simply differently-emotional.

I grimaced, hoping he wouldn't blame me for his injuries after this explanation. "Er. That was... because Lon'qu knew she was female. Because I... kind of... told him. Not the whole truth," I quickly blurted, wary of the repercussions. "Just her female-ness. I... didn't think it was a fair fight, otherwise."

I still had my doubts, but it was far too late to regret my actions. Hopefully, I wouldn't stick around long enough to leave anything more lasting on this world.

"Well, he sure as heck put me through the wringer, even as a dragon. Then again, I _was_ making things fair for him."

Zant—Oblivion? Nope, sticking with his alias. _Zant_ got onto his feet, and I gave him room as he stretched and popped with a grunt. I had the passing, random thought of whether or not his tail and wings made those sorts of noises.

"Anyway, I'm feeling a lot better, so I'm going back for more food. Sophia's probably worried sick for me." I didn't know who he referenced, but I nodded anyway. There was an entire _world_ here. It wasn't as if I hadn't met several other "side characters" not featured in the game, myself.

At this point, who even cared about the game anymore? Barring the obvious key events.

"Ah, okay, cool," I breathed, feeling the whiplash from all of this new information. _I've met two people from my world in less than twenty-four hours. I think I need a break from mind-blowing discoveries._ "I'll be around the fortress for tonight at least. You're heading out with Chrom and his Shepherds too, right?" For all I knew, he had refused Flavia's command. He _was_ a dragon, after all.

"Of course," he replied, debunking _that_ theory. "Flavia wouldn't dare let Basilio one up her. Besides, you expect me to spout references and have _no one_ get them?" His grin was infectious. "Yeah right, you're not ditching me that easily."

Mine widened as I realized what fun we could have, sharing inside jokes that no one else would get. " _Sweet!_ " Oh, but that _did_ remind me. "Well, we aren't the only ones here. Do you remember Blazing Scep—"

Three slow, formal knocks caused me to fall silent. _Uh-oh._ This could be awkward.

"Hold that thought." Zant approached the door, and I waited patiently and quietly as he stood in the way of his visitor. Although it completely blocked anyone from seeing me, I also couldn't very well see through him. He posed mildly, "Um, do I know you?"

"We need to talk."

I jumped, recognizing that voice _easily._ It wasn't the fake-male voice I'd heard in-person, but I'd heard enough of "I challenge my fate" to realize that Chrom's daughter was in front of him. And if that wasn't enough, she leaned to glance past him and into the room, catching sight of me still standing by the bed.

"May I come in?"

* * *

I had chosen to remain standing, unsure I could adequately sit still for this important conversation; Zant returned to his bed, hands patiently clasped in his lap. Lucina, seated in a chair, examined us closely. Her Falchion was lashed to her side, reminding me of the stunning blade I hadn't had the chance to see Chrom use. _How would their duel have gone in reality versus the game's mechanics?_ I had enough time to wonder about these legendary blades meeting like magnets before the silence was broken with the quiet, yet strong words of this young woman.

"Do you two know who I am?"

 _Shit,_ I thought, realizing I hadn't come up with an excuse for knowing her true gender. It was a good thing I was used to BS-ing conversation.

"Yeah, we—uh, we met on the road, remember?" As her attention focused on me, I continued more enthusiastically, "Your wicked duel with Lon'qu was awesome! Too bad about the... er, tournament thing."

It really was a shame. _She was so confident with hacking through the Risen. It would've been nice to see her fighting to prove herself to her father, even if he wasn't aware of it at the time._

I thought I saw a faint smile on Lucina's face, but then hands were rising to remove the disguise and free long, blue locks from their confines. The mask was placed on the study desk as she murmured, "That's not what I meant."

She turned back to us, and I couldn't help staring at the Brand of the Exalt on her left eye that cemented her identity later on. It was jarring, even when I expected it, and I swallowed dryly.

 _Be prepared to see more familiar faces, Megan._

"Do you two know _who_ I am," Lucina insisted. I swallowed again.

"...if I say "yes," are you going to say "now I have to kill you"?"

It was a serious question, even if said in a goofy fashion. And Lucina was anything but goofy. So color me surprised when I was laughed at a second time in this same room.

Lucina, serious and burdened, was doubled over, _laughing._

 _Not that it sounds particularly cheerful._ It was more hysterical than anything else. I looked to Zant, uncertain of what had just happened.

"Heh heh," I halfheartedly laughed. "Yeah, funny me! I... was kind of serious, because I _do_ know."

 _Oh, the things I know..._

"You are Lucina."

I jumped, now looking at the manakete in alarm. _Are you really—_

"Daughter of Prince Chrom," he continued matter-of-factly, "Exalt of Ylisse, but most importantly, the biggest pain in the ass Grima has ever gotten."

 _Seriously?!_ Lucina wasn't laughing anymore, but she was certainly still shaking like she was. That had been a hell of an introduction from supposed strangers, so I didn't exactly blame her if she thought we were crazy—

Except she flew from the chair to collapse onto Zant, embracing him tightly as she wailed in despair. The sudden movement made me squeak, and even Mr. I Don't Feel Human Feelz appeared shocked by the gesture.

"Holy—" I aborted the swear, shaking my head as the girl sobbed something about a "uncu-hu-hu-hul" into the man's chest. "Geez, lay out the entire deck of cards, why don't ya? Never cut to the chase with me," I added more quietly, a bit perturbed by that fact. He'd certainly had _his_ fun with me. _Jerk._

Then what I had heard really _clicked._

"...wait."

Both of us displaced souls stared at the young woman, as if she had said...

"Did she say "uncle"?!"

"Um," Zant blinked, venturing, "does that mean I married Lissa?"

It was a fair question, and if he had already decided not to care about keeping our knowledge of the future a secret then I guessed it made sense to ask a person _from_ the future about it.

"Oh gods," he muttered, "Owain as a manakete. Even _Naga_ couldn't handle something like that."

The comment got a watery laugh out of Lucina, and I tried to muffle my giggle-snorts with limited success. "What," I just had to tease, "can't imagine his "twitching sword hand" being all scaly and on fire? I think he'd make a _great_ manakete."

 _Owain the manakete son. Heh, THAT would be interesting._ Really taking in the idea, however, brought up a very foreboding thought: If Lucina had expected us to know her, and she referred to Zant as her "uncle"...

"But, if Lucina knows us both, then that means..."

"That we were in the future past as well," Zant finished for me. The solemnity in the room made it difficult to breathe.

Lucina, after some time, had finally calmed down enough for conversation. Wiping her face clean, her voice still shook, and _that_ left _me_ shaken.

"It is as he says, Aunt Megan."

 _Aunt Megan._ Oh, gods. Oh gods, she was calling me aunt.

"You both were in the ruined future with us."

The words hit me like a lance through the chest.

"When we crossed through time," she continued, heavy with grief, "you two stayed behind to hold back Grima's forces for as long as you could."

 _I was there, in her time, helping her jump into the portal._

"I... holy shit. Sorry," I immediately apologized, feeling like I should probably start censoring myself here. "Just... _shit._ " A trembling hand rose to my forehead, trying to emulate the stability I felt was crashing down around me. _She knows me, and thinks of me as an aunt._ "I'm guessing that means we... were there the entire time. And that we..."

 _Deep breaths, Megan. Deep... breaths..._

It was pointless to think about how inevitable being trapped in this world looked now. To think about the people I apparently befriended but wouldn't be able to save. _Like Kellam, the poor guy... or Miriel, or Virion, or... Robin._ Breaking down in front of this troubled girl and this equally lost guy wasn't going to solve anything. It wasn't going to save anyone. I could feel something like glass shattering inside, but I couldn't let them hear it. _Theron—KAIL had said as much, anyway. He's been here a year already. If he couldn't find a way out, why should I bother getting so worked up over hearing this?_

Calm. I could pretend to be calm. I'd been denying my fears during daylight for more than a month already. How hard could it be to keep this charade up?

I smiled, and it was painful.

"So. Aunt Megan, huh?" The title was both endearing and terrifying, because how the hell was I supposed to be a role model to a bunch of scared kids in an apocalypse? But I managed to sound cheerful regardless as I joked, "Kinda scary being someone's auntie, but I couldn't complain if I was stuck with an awesome kid like you."

Because Lucina was so, so amazing. So wonderful, even through her tears. _A child. A survivor. A hero._ Seeing her in-person now, I could attest to that.

The young woman sniffled. " _Kids,_ Auntie Megan." Man, that nickname wasn't getting any easier to swallow with repetition. "You two were all the Shepherds' children had. You trained and taught us, and if it weren't for you... I fear we never would have survived."

"Oh. Oh, you..." To think of these kids watching their parents die all around them, forced to fight at such a young age, struggling to survive... it broke my heart. Those glass shards were plentiful enough to cover this entire floor. "You poor kids. I'm... I'm sorry."

I didn't know what my future-self had been up to, but I desperately hoped I had done all that I could, script be damned.

Seeing just how troubled this young lord was, I opened up my arms to offer, "Come here, Auntie's feeling left out of the hug-fest." I couldn't find the right words to fix everything because they simply didn't exist. At the very least, I could give her this small comfort. It surprised me that she accepted this idea, but she held me tightly as if afraid I'd disappear once she let go.

"I'm so sorry for failing you two," she muttered.

"What? Failing?" I began patting her hair, hoping it was motherly enough to soothe her distress. "You look pretty full of win, if you ask me."

 _There might've been a better way to put that._ It was really hard to discern what phrases would sound strange in this world, especially on the fly.

"I—" Lucina choked, tugging me back to reality. "I tried to change this tournament, but I wasn't strong enough. If it hadn't been for Uncle Zant, nothing would have changed." Her grip was becoming unbearable, but I couldn't have pried her off even if I had wanted to as she sobbed, "H-how am I supposed t-to save the future i-if I can't change anything?"

This was my fault. If I hadn't said anything to Lon'qu, it was highly likely that Lucina would've won in their duel like the script had said. _He wouldn't have expected her to be a woman, and she would've taken advantage of his distraction to disarm him._ But because of my interference, the man had been adequately prepared, and now this young woman was crushed by her failure.

Not even five minutes of being an aunt, and I had already royally fucked up.

 _Fix this, Megan!_

"Shh, shh, no, don't cry!" Man, what a weak start. I hugged her more tightly, willing every ounce of sincere motherly love I had for this poor girl to osmosis its way into her heart. "It was just one setback, and it turned out all right in the end, right? You have a very hard task to accomplish, Lucina, but don't think that you don't have the power to change anything. I mean..."

Even with the "fuck the plot" mentality Zant had presented, I was hesitant to mention anything pertaining to "destiny" or "fate" and my own hand in fucking with it. I looked to the manakete, perhaps a bit desperately. Was I doing all right so far, at least? _I don't know how to deal with crying heroes!_

I continued, "I mean, since Chrom has Feroxi support after all, it means you still have the chance to change things for the better. _Right?_ "

This was where Zant stepped in, putting a gentle hand on Lucina's shoulder.

"And most importantly," he added calmly, "you have us, Lucina. We may not be the same aunt and uncle you had in that desolate place, but we know what's at stake, and we are more than happy to help. Know that you can always come to us for anything. Be it planning, advice, or just to be held close as is the case now—we will always be there for you.

"You are our niece," came the strong finish to his inspiring speech. "And no amount of time-travel will change that."

This proved to be exactly what Lucina needed to hear: She stretched out an arm and pulled him in to make it a group hug, crying more freely as she finally let go of her fears and doubts. This was a much healthier way to cry, and although I felt awkward being so close to someone so emotional, I was glad that this incredible warrior wasn't giving in to despair. If she could manage that, maybe it'd rub off on me and I wouldn't feel so fragile all of the time.

"Wow, Zant," I teased, even as I sent him a grateful look over her head, "you really know how to make a girl cry!" He didn't respond, likely absorbed in his own thoughts. But it felt good to joke regardless.

After quite some time, Lucina released us to clean her face. "Thank you, both of you. You've no idea how much of a burden has been lifted from my shoulders."

I could say that I did, but with all that I knew of the future I understood that she was right. I couldn't relate to the horrors that she had faced. _...not yet._ But I couldn't think like that. Had to keep that locked deep, _deep_ within. Maybe I could get away with never letting it out.

She donned the mask and fixed up her hair once more—she was scarily efficient, and I thought I'd ask her later to teach me how to braid hair—and then returned to stand before us.

"Goodbye, Auntie," she murmured, the embrace much more careful this time. No doubt she needed to practice keeping a good distance between us, to keep up appearances. She did the same with Zant. "Goodbye, Uncle."

 _Look at your niece go, Megan,_ I mused as Lucina strode for the door. _So amazing. I wonder how she'd feel to know that she's a role model for ME._

"There is still much to do, but I'm glad I have you two to support me."

Before I could think of some cool farewell to try pulling another smile out of her, she was gone. The door shut softly, leaving Zant and me to our thoughts.

 _"Goodbye, Auntie." She said it so easily, like it came naturally to her._

I hoped I was a good aunt.

"...wow." Swallowing, I managed to point out the obvious as I said, "I'm an aunt to, like, ten kids or something." I could've mentally counted heads, but seeing as how I was physically in this world as opposed to looking through a screen it didn't seem too wise to count the chickens before their parents hooked up.

"And possibly a mother," Zant added, giving me a minor heart attack.

"Oh geez, _please_ don't talk about me being a mother." I shuddered. "Being an _aunt_ is scary enough."

Being called "aunt" was one thing, but being a _mom?_ That was a big no-no, uh-uh, no _way_ in _hell_ was I tampering with this world like that. Plus, I'd already decided not to have kids! I wouldn't be any good at it! What do you even _do_ with kids before they can talk, anyway? Shake keys in their face and pray they don't cry all night?

Thankfully, the manakete broke through these thoughts before I could start hyperventilating.

"What's more disconcerting were the little things in that conversation that had some pretty big meanings. You said Blazing was here, right?"

I sighed at the reminder, wondering how _that_ meeting was going to go. _The dragon-man probably won't mess with HIS mind. Already had his fun._

"Yeah," I answered aloud, "he is. Goes by "Kail," because apparently everyone except me got the memo to give ourselves cool code-names." Honestly, it wouldn't have been out of the norm to use their real names, would it? I mean, you had names like Robin and Frederick next to _Gangrel_ and _Chrom,_ for crying out loud. Would Kail and Zant's real names have _really_ been that weird in comparison? _Whatever, what's done is done, and I'm the only one with the boring name. Figures._

"Yeah, well, where was he in the future past? According to Lucina, it was just us two."

"He—"

I stopped, a stone sinking into my gut to hit glass-filled rock-bottom.

 _No._

Kail... _Theron..._ one of my closest friends... the guy who always put others before himself, who listened to my ranting and offered sage advice alongside goofy one-liners...

Had I let him die?

 _No... NO._

I would not think it, I would not imagine it—I _would not let it happen._

"He... well, it doesn't _matter_ where he was in the future past," I declared forcefully, both to Zant and to my own doubts. "Because failure is _not_ an option. We're keeping everyone safe and making sure everything doesn't go to shit until we can figure out how to get home."

Home. Where estranged family or writer's block were the worst things I had to contend with, where I hadn't seen men die or corpses walk, where I led a simple existence with quiet aspirations and goofy puns and _didn't have nightmares every night._ That was the endgame, here.

We would all make it home.

"Everyone, Megan?"

My gaze snapped back to him, hackles rising at the incredulity in his tone. _Yes, everyone!_

"I appreciate the mindset," he continued smoothly, "but saving everyone is impossible. Oh, I'm going to do my damnedest," he added for my growing frustration. "Same as you. But all it takes is one slip."

My teeth were grinding together.

"Also, I smelled a roiling mass of negativity all over Lucina, Megan. Self-loathing, depression, low self-worth and -esteem, disgust, and a couple others I don't want to mention. Now what on earth, besides an apocalypse, could make a girl feel such a negative perfume, hmm?"

His tone of voice was _not_ appreciated, and neither was the needless reminder that everything was _fucked_ if we didn't help this girl save the world from Grima's plotting. I already knew that everyone could die, I already knew that _we_ could die, I _already knew that the world was doomed if we failed,_ so could he maybe let me at least _pretend_ to be an optimist for a little bit?

Dragon or not, _friend_ or not, he was going to be very sorry if he kept this up, because a month of nightmares and uncertainty had not been kind to my self-control.

Through gritted teeth, I told him, "I don't care _what_ sort of future she came from. I'm going big, _and_ I'm going home." I lifted my chin, wishing he had reclaimed his seat so I didn't have to look up to meet his gaze. "I can out pessimist you any day, _trust_ me on that, but I can't look that girl in the face and tell her I don't plan on doing all I can to keep everyone alive. I can't focus on the idea of being _stuck_ here and watching people _die_ all around me—"

 _Damn voice crack._ It was undermining my attempt at being assertive. I _needed_ him to understand this. Thankfully, he remained quiet, allowing me to tighten the coils around my emotions and continue more calmly.

"I won't survive whatever hell she's gone through if I focus on the idea of eventually fucking up. On death. I'm going to focus on _preventing_ it. No ifs, ands, or buts."

Because how could I live with myself otherwise?

Sighing, Zant seemed to relent with something close to an apology in his expression. Perhaps he hadn't meant to sound so cruel. I had to remember that I wasn't the only one lost in this world, and that he had a different situation to handle than my bizarre wardrobe change.

"All right, all right, I'm gonna be doing the exact same thing. Just keep what I said in mind." He gestured at the door. "Now, lead the way to Theron, or "Kail" I suppose. None of us are surviving this without a plan."

He was right, of course. Straightening my spine, I stepped out into the hallway as I once again forced a neutral expression on. I would have to smile and joke with any Feroxi we came across, so I prepared to not look like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. It wasn't like I could answer the questions, anyway. How exactly _does_ one say they're worried because the world might end in the next few years?

I came to a halt soon after, though, realizing something important that had me groan.

"I have no idea where he is." Rubbing my face, I decided it wouldn't hurt to retrace my steps. "Maybe he's eating with the others." After all, going there the first time had led me to Zant.

 _I just hope there are no more surprises along the way._

.

* * *

 _And that's a wrap! Boy, there was a lot to cover this chapter. But separating these scenes didn't make much sense to me, so you get it all in one go._

 _Remember when I said it wasn't all gonna be funny? Yeah. Keeping that promise. But don't worry! Laughs are still in our future!_

 _-Dragon_

 _P.S.: Aw, there was no "being picked up and carried" in any of these scenes. I guess you could say... I just got CARRIED AWAY with this dialogue! Ahahaha I'm the greatest_


	5. There was a dark and stormy knight

_Apologies for the wait! I've always been a bit of a slow one. That's why I normally write the entire story out, or a large portion of it, before I start uploading, implying I can keep a semi-regular update schedule. Of course, readers of my "Just wait for me to get a little taller... okay?" fic already know how that goes ehe._

 _Anyway! Here's to another chapter of hilarious misunderstandings and bizarre exchanges!_

 _ **In case you missed it** , this fic is parallel to Perfect Oblivion's fic, "The Journey of Awakening: Through a Dragon's Eyes." (It either went through a slight title change, or I managed to misread it as "Journey to Awakening" the first time.)_

* * *

.

Let me say that people in Ferox know how to party hard.

It was exhausting just _watching_ them all, and they tried dragging me into some of their shenanigans. A day just wasn't complete there without a group of warriors carrying me around a room. The send-off feast was, of course, totally extravagant and crazy as per the khans' orders—and Basilio had even found some rum I could stomach. (Although he looked at me funny for adding it to milk. It was the closest to RumChata I could get.) There was a drinking contest between Zant and a few of the Shepherds, some hilarious stories were shared—including my magical mishap, goodie—and overall it was a fun, chaotic time. It made getting up the next morning for a march difficult, but getting to sleep had been easier. And no nightmares, much to my relief!

Still, why did everyone always have to get up so damn early?

"So."

I was startled, mid-yawn, by a cheerful voice piping up at my shoulder. Robin had used my distraction to sneak up on me, although he hardly had nefarious purposes. He had the "I'm going to get to know you and we're going to get along and that's that" air about him; I recognized it because I so often had it, myself. (I'm generally determined to be friendly with everyone.) It was probably a good thing for the Shepherds' tactician to be so social, especially with newcomers. _Got to plan ahead, after all._ I was more surprised that it had taken him a few days to do this.

"Tell me more about yourself."

I snorted at that opening. _How could I resist?_ I drawled, "Well, I like long walks on the beach, dragons, candy and flowers. But you could at least take me out to dinner first, buck-o."

 _Kail would've loved that,_ I thought sadly. Apparently, Basilio wasn't so eager to return the bow knight to Ylisse; he bargained for sending Kail on one more mission, and so he wasn't marching with us out of Ferox. At least I had managed to flag him down before he left the feast to pass out, sharing the news of "Zant" and the information Lucina had revealed. (I didn't tell him he might've been dead in her future. I wouldn't have been able to get the words out, anyway.)

"Er, wait—" Robin held up both palms, wincing. "That's not—what I meant was—"

I laughed, unable to stay deadpan in the face of his awkward panicking. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! _You,_ " I snickered at his heavy (relieved) sigh, "had better be prepared for a silly, goofy magic-user, sir. Because that is me to a "T." Or, "M." "

"I already deal with Lissa's pranking," he muttered, "and that Zant guy seems to enjoy mocking me." It made me feel better that I wasn't the only one victim to the manakete's sense of humor. "How much worse can it get?"

 _Ha ha ha he has no idea._ "Did you not _Lissa_ -n the first time? I'm silly and goofy!" There was That Look. The "Megan please don't" look I loved so much. Cackling, I gave his shoulder a friendly swat, explaining, "I'm a fan of what I like to call sadistic comedy: Your groans give me life."

"Wonderful."

I giggled some more.

Robin soon shook off the humor, returning to business. "Your name is Megan, right?" I nodded, realizing the khans hadn't exactly introduced me properly. "You mentioned you aren't originally from Ferox."

Of course, like he'd forget that detail. Would it hurt to tell him? _...mm, probably not. I've already told others, anyway._ "I'm from a land _really_ far away—so far away that Ferox and Ylisse sounded like fairytales to us. Don't know how I got here."

"Really?" His tone was incredulous, which was understandable. "Not a clue?"

"Nope. I'm pretty sure last thing I remember was passing out in the middle of reading a story at home." Or writing one, but I wasn't sure I wanted to talk about writing with a person I used to write fanfiction about. "Then I woke up and hello, kidnappers and death."

"Hm." He mulled over something, of which I could take a stab at and say was his own predicament. As I expected, he finally admitted, "I'm in a similar boat. I woke up in a field far south of here without any memories, barring a few names."

Instead of faking surprise, I said more honestly, "That sucks." The abrupt reply surprised a laugh out of him.

"Yeah, you could say that." Robin shook his head. "Anyway. How extensive is your magic knowledge?"

"Uh..." The satchel I had slung over my shoulder was swung around so I could loosen its tie and show him the tomes inside. "Basically, these. Feroxi isn't exactly Magicland." I left out the whole "and I only started learning a month ago" because I didn't want to seem like a total greenhorn, even though that's exactly what I was.

"Ah." He squinted, as if only now realizing I was carrying all of these books, along with my tent, blanket, some food and a canteen. "Um, do you need help, or...?"

"Nah." I returned the bag to its original position with a grunt. "I used to carry tons of books all the time in school. Strong legs and what not." _Oops. Pro-Tip Number Three: Don't mention having memories to the amnesiac._ He looked a bit wistful. _Dammit, me._ " _Ahem!_ So! What's it like, marching around with a prince?" This brought Robin out of his melancholy, at least.

"It's an interesting experience." Glancing about the Shepherds, he admitted, "We've had some trouble to rout, but we've held our own."

"Trouble? Like criminals, or like the Risen?"

"Both." Then he squinted at me. "Did you say "Risen"?"

 _Shit._ "Risen" was a term the Ylisseans had coined. _I'm surprised Kellam didn't say anything about that during the tournament. Then again, there was kind of a TOURNAMENT going on._ I quickly waved him off, claiming, "Word travels fast in Ferox." He'd heard the West-Khan say as much the other day, albeit directed at me and my "falling" incident. I couldn't help the grimace. "We had some Risen of our own, in West Ferox. They were... urf."

Robin seemed amused by my assessment. "Well said," he teased. I was glad befriending these people was so easy. Growing more somber, he ran a hand through his bangs with a sigh. "I hadn't realized the Risen had spread so far north, so quickly..."

"They just kind of came out of nowhere. Just like that Marth guy."

He started at the name.

"Marth? You've met him?"

"Yeah. Hell of a fighter, lemme tell ya." I thought fondly of the disguised young lord. _I'll keep your secret, Luci._ "He really knows how to deal with them, and he nearly beat Lon'qu in a duel. Left right afterwards, though."

"Is that so?" The tactician hummed. After a pause, he inquired, "So, this "Lon'qu"... Basilio called him the "best of the best" in Ferox. Is that true?"

"Absolutely."

He eyed me, as if searching for deceit. But I honestly believed what I said; even the rude awakening (ha) of Zant's victory hadn't diminished the swordsman's gravitas. Ferox was full of warriors, but not many as disciplined and loyal as Lon'qu at his age. _I pray to never be on the wrong end of his blade._ Robin eventually relented the staring and took my word for it. It made me wonder how his talk with the myrmidon would go, if it hadn't already happened.

"The khans were gracious in lending us their support, and their soldiers. A sworsdman, a mage... and a dragon."

"Sounds like the beginnings of a joke. Maybe a knock-knock joke." Although normally they didn't have to lead into their premise. _More like a joke that starts "a swordmaster, a mage and a dragon walked into a bar"..._

Robin, meanwhile, was giving me an odd look. "Knock-knock joke?"

"Dude, you've never heard of a—oh my god." I needed to rectify this _immediately._ "Okay, so this is how it works: I say "knock knock," and you ask "who's there" as if you're answering the door. I say something like "boo"—where you would ask "boo, who"—and then I laugh and say "don't cry, I'm just coming to say hi" or something else silly."

"O...kay...?"

"Or! Or!" There was a bounce in my step as I began, "Knock knock!"

I waited patiently until, finally, Robin blinked and asked, "Who's there...?"

"Dragon."

"Dragon, who?"

My grin widened to feline proportions. "Dragon _you_ into this joke!" I couldn't help the little dance. He groaned again, but ended up chuckling if only because I made quite the spectacle of enjoying my own joke. It was the best part of being the "silly" one of a group, making people smile. (Even if only on the inside.) It meant I wasn't always taken seriously, but as long as I could get what I needed done then I wouldn't complain. Plus I got to make dumb puns all day. _That_ was always a pro.

When Robin exited stage left (maybe to chat up the other newcomers) I was victim to fabulous swishing hair as Mr. Archest of Archers exclaimed, "My fair lady! You once again grace me with your presence! Are you—"

"Still not interested? A-yep." I laughed as Virion, of all things, pouted before falling into step beside me.

"Y-you could've at least let me finish my sentence..."

"That might've taken a while. And besides," I added, crossing my arms with a smirk, "I'd much rather skip the whole "wooing" bull and get straight to the part where we're friends and you _stop_ hitting on me. Deal?"

"Ah... I suppose?"

"Cool beans! So," I moved right along, "you're Virion the archer, right?"

"Yes, madam. I am the archest—"

"—of archers?"

"—of arch—w-wait, how did..." He eyed me strangely. "Milady, are you a prophet?"

"Nope, just had a hunch." I could tell I was going to have fun with some of those "hunches" of mine. But I cut him some slack. "I think long-range weapons are pretty awesome. Aiming at a target from a distance, especially a _moving_ target, isn't easy."

Virion stood a little taller with that, his bow clacking against its quiver. "But of course! My aim is always true, for rapscallions and scoundrels, and for maidens' tender hearts."

"How noble," I snorted. "Might I say, the noblest of nobles?"

"Why, yes—" He stopped when he noticed my grin. "...M-milady, are you mocking me?"

"I'd like to think of it as friendly teasing." Patting his arm, I promised, "I'll try not to do it _too_ much. That wouldn't be as fun."

"Well... small favors, I suppose."

"You should teach me how to use a bow sometime. I want to be as useful as possible!" There wasn't any sense in putting all of my eggs into one basket. _Might as well try everything, right?_

"But of course! I would be delighted to—"

"No touch-y, dude."

He removed his fingers from my shoulder blade.

"Ah, r-right, of course. Anyway, I would be happy to instruct you on the delicate art of archery..."

* * *

After accepting a bowl of stew, I found a barrel to use as a seat and hauled myself up. Not even a week of travel, and I was already missing proper benches. _And tables. They haven't pulled those out yet._ My current seat wasn't any comfier than Kellam's shoulder, but at least it didn't move as much. Speaking of the knight...

I cleared my throat and called out for him. It wasn't like I would've noticed him, after all.

"Kellam? _Keeeeellaaaaaaam!_ "

I stirred my spoon a bit.

"Oh, _Kell_ —"

"I'm right here."

" _EEK!_ " It was a miracle I didn't splash hot stew all over my front; even so, it was only because of Kellam's intervention that I didn't fall off of the barrel. Heart pounding in my chest, I cursed my total lack of cool before greeting him rather breathlessly. "G-good night for a camp-out, huh?"

"I guess so..." He had a strange look on his face. It was something I was used to seeing when people were in my presence. Pursing his lips, he ventured, "Did you... need something?"

"Me? Oh, not really." I pointed out a crate he could scoot over for his own seat, admitting, "I was just wondering if you were around. I haven't seen you, and I didn't know if that was me being blind or you avoiding the weird lady."

"No, I'm pretty much invisible to everyone." His expression didn't even flinch admitting this fact. _Poor, poor guy._ He finally accepted the offer for seated conversation, and slurped from his own bowl before proceeding. "In that case, can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead, although I can't promise I have a good answer."

Kellam nodded. "I've never heard of a land called "America." What's it like?"

"Ah," I mock-sighed, "I knew this day would come."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't mind me, I'm just being silly—anyway, America. How do I explain it?"

There was no one word for the country. Some of its citizens might say "freedom," or "liberty," or "democracy" even, but honestly it was more than just the slogan we slap on our bumper stickers. There was corruption, and vast pastures, and towering skyscrapers, and tacky holidays... People were as varied as flowers, from appearance to beliefs to lifestyles. And I'd lived all over the place throughout my childhood, so I'd seen a larger variety of the United States than others. Traveling was kind of natural for me, actually, so being on the road (even in a magical kingdom) was almost like coming home. It would suffice until I got the real deal.

I polished off my stew before finally answering his inquiry. "Let me put it this way: America is _huge._ It has deserts, large plains, tundras, swamps, towns, _big_ towns, forests, some lakes, a few mountain ranges... There's everything for everyone there, no matter your preferences. Some people are nice. Some people are decidedly _not._ Overall, there's a lot I'd change about it, but some of it's all right."

"That sounds incredible... strange that no one has heard of such a large place."

I shrugged, not sure how to explain _that_ to anyone here. "Places like Ylisse and Ferox were only fairytales, for us. Makes sense that you haven't heard of us in turn. That's why it's so strange to suddenly be here, with no explanation other than being kidnapped." _Interdimensional kidnapping, more like._ "I still wake up thinking I'm late for work."

"Must be rough."

"Could be worse." Giving a hollow laugh, I pointed out, "I could've been dead. Several times over." Not a day went by that I didn't think about that. I missed the bombastic enthusiasm that had tired me out so thoroughly back in Ferox.

"But you're not."

"Nope." And I could live with that.

"Well, that's enough talk about death and kidnapping." Offering a hand to help me off of my perch, Kellam towered over me when he got to his own feet. _Why's everyone so goddamn tall here?_ On a more cheerful note, he said, "I think it's time we got out of this chill."

"Agreed! I hate the cold."

"Ferox was probably the worst place for you to end up, then."

"Ha ha, you're telling me!"

He suggested I ask Lissa for some tea to warm my belly before bed, but another offhand comment of his made me halt in my tracks.

"Wait. Come again?"

"Huh? Oh, I was just thinking aloud, that's all. I might ask that swordsman for some of the Feroxi tea he makes. It smells different from what I'm used to, but...uh. Megan? What... are you trying to do?"

Currently, I was scrabbling at his shoulder plate like an impatient child. When he asked this, I exclaimed, "I need higher ground! You're the high ground! Hoist me up! Beam me up, Scotty!"

"Uh... okay?"

My roommates and friends were probably right. I must have been a cat in another lifetime, because finding a tall perch was very satisfying, especially if it inconvenienced someone (not too terribly, of course). I was lucky that I weighed practically nothing, and that Kellam had trained with overlarge armor to carry heavy burdens.

I pointed ahead and declared, "Onwards! I must find the fiend who _conveniently_ forgot to tell me that Regna Ferox has tea!" I had been there for over a month! How did something _that_ important escape my notice? I was left to fend for myself this long, and there was a solution within reach? The nerve!

 _Water is necessary, soda is out of reach, alcohol's all right in moderation, but tea... glorious tea! THAT is a heavenly beverage I'd rather not live without, Awakening World or no!_

Kellam was such a good sport, playing along. Or at least not shoving me off.

I'm not sure he was particularly looking for Lon'qu, but it wasn't too hard to stumble upon the man; he was tending to a sword at the edge of camp. _That must be a new one, since Zant's scales shattered the other during the tournament._ What were those swords called again? Killer sword? Killing edge? Not like it mattered, I could call it "Stabby Katana" for all the good it'd do me. I patted the knight's shoulder and hopped down with quiet thanks, making sure I was a decent distance from my target before raising my voice.

"Excuse me, sir." Lon'qu stiffened, gaze snapping up to meet mine. "I would like to file a grievance with you."

"...what?"

Chin lifting, I couldn't quite keep the smile off of my face as I elaborated, "How could Ferox hide its precious tea from me? I was there for weeks, and no one offered me any!" His eyes were narrowing. "I mean, alcohol is all well and good, but damn, a warm cup of tea would really hit the spot in this frigid climate." Now he looked thoroughly annoyed that a woman was encroaching on his time for grass water.

"Why are you complaining to me?"

"Because a little birdie told me you had some Feroxi tea, and I want to try it."

"No."

A mock-pout formed before I could stop myself. _This isn't one of my roommates; this is, for all intents and purposes, a complete stranger._ I couldn't act too familiar with him. So I held back the whine when I asked, "Why not?"

"Get your own."

"That's what I'm _trying_ to do." Patting at the pockets of my coat, I pointed out, "It's not like I have any money to my name. Or... anything _other_ than my name, really." _Keep smiling, Megan._ "Please? I'll keep my distance, I promise."

The look he was giving me didn't seem so reassured... and I rolled my eyes with a huff.

"That gale spell was a fluke, and I _really_ wish people would stop reminding me about it because it's only happened once."

"Twice."

"Twice?"

I thought about it.

"...oh. Right. Twice." When interfering with that Risen archer, I'd slammed into Basilio. Not that he'd budged. "But I've figured out the problem. It was partially the hand movement, partially the incantation itself. I was pronouncing it wrong and gesturing too strongly." Let it be said that magic is not a simple swish-and-flick, at least in Awakening World. "... _anyway!_ The point is, I won't fling myself at you unless it's important, because I respect your need for space—"

"Silence."

"What?" About to argue further, I noticed his expression had shifted and immediately thought better of it.

Which was good, because it let him focus on turning around and bringing his newly sharpened weapon across his front. The _ka-tang_ of metal made me jump; he leapt backwards to reveal the figure that had accosted him, and my stomach dropped. The pale man continued after Lon'qu, sword glinting in the moonlight. Red eyes glowed.

 _He—it's a Risen!_

The moment the initial shock wore off, I spun around and scanned the tents around me. Kellam was—of course—nowhere to be seen, but I spotted a few more silhouettes stumbling through. _They're smart enough to stage a night ambush? Actually, with how these things operate early on, this might just be a terrible coincidence._ I went to shout, but others were already raising the alarm, and I was distracted by the _thud_ of something hitting the ground behind me. _Oh, shit!_ I twirled again and was relieved to see Lon'qu standing over the quickly dissipating corpse.

"Thank the gods you're so quick," I muttered, palms itching. My eyes darted to the woods near our camp, catching an unfortunately familiar sight. "Oh, no you—" I wrenched a hand horizontally with an incantation and was pleased to see the bowstring snap with the wind. " _Ha._ "

"Stay alert."

"Right. Stay safe," I shot back, trusting him to keep an eye out as I turned around. "Basilio would kill me if I let anything happen to his favorite champion."

"Hmph."

I took a deep breath, already feeling jitters as I eyed a potential opponent. An axe dangled from its hand as it peered in our direction. Its red gaze seemed to gravitate more towards the myrmidon however, and I wasn't having any of that. _Okay, fire is good for lighting. Hope I don't actually LIGHT anything!_

The fireball I flung at its face didn't kill it, but it certainly got its attention. It lifted that weapon up and over its shoulder. Shit, it was a throwing axe!

" _Ack!_ "

The gale spell ripped through its arm and skidded me back a few inches. _Damn, focus, focus!_ I couldn't afford to distract Lon'qu or lose my footing. The Risen wasn't armed anymore—pun totally intended—but that didn't stop it from approaching; I stumbled over a word and had to recollect my thoughts to send another, larger fireball exploding through its chest. It fell, gurgling as it went.

 _Urf, indeed._

Eyeing my surroundings as I crept forward, I snatched the dropped axe and decided to find the others. Lon'qu followed after, sword flashing across undead stomachs and torsos that wandered too close. It was becoming readily apparent that the Risen were more interested in him, for whatever reason.

 _Just another clue that I don't belong in this place._

A tanned, muscular blond stumbled out of his tent, swearing up and down over the ruckus. Seeing us, Vaike shouted, "Oy, what's going on?"

"Risen attack," I answered shortly, shoving my acquisition in his direction. "Go stab 'em!"

"What?! Er, wait—no need to tell _me_ twice!"

He laughed and charged towards the center of camp, looking fairly excited for a man that was just rudely awakened. At least he didn't have to worry about forgetting his axe. The attempt to follow him was interrupted by two combatants crashing through his tent, making me stagger backwards in alarm. Sully and her faithful steed were chasing after another archer. I apologized to Lon'qu and decided to take a different route.

Robin seemed glad to see we were all right, as he immediately gave us orders in another direction. "I haven't seen Lissa," he shouted, and that was enough reason for me to pick up the pace.

 _Not the sweet little prankster!_

" _Aaah!_ "

"Lissa!" _No, no, no!_ "Dammit, _dammit, DAMMIT—_ "

The moment I caught sight of an axe swinging towards the princess, my nerves sang with energy as I shouted, " _Get the fuck away from her!_ "

The Risen didn't bother turning around, as if I wasn't worth acknowledging.

 _Oh, that's IT!_

The protectiveness that had leapt forward when Lucina was under attack returned full-force, and I put the same amount of firepower behind the hex to save her aunt. Wishes became reality in a millisecond. Dark fingers crept out of the ground to sink into purple flesh, like magical restraints. When the corpse tried to turn around, the darkness erupted—and then Lon'qu darted forward to sink his blade into its chest.

"Lissa," I scurried forward, "are you okay?"

"Y...yeah."

The wide, teary eyes weren't exactly reassuring, but I couldn't focus on that. Another Risen had noticed the little skirmish and was coming at us. Its sword had to contend with Lon'qu's, however, as the man was suddenly in front of us to block the charge.

"Go," he commanded. Grunting, he shoved his opponent away, unfortunately missing with his next strike as he bought us some time. "Now!"

"Okay, Lissa, let's g-t-f-o."

"W-what?"

"Get The Fuck Out!"

Not waiting for more questions, I linked our arms together to drag her away from the duel. I cursed when I noticed her staff was broken, immediately apologizing as I remembered her station.

"I've kind of got the mouth of a sailor. Actually, it's probably worse. Sailors would blush at some of the things I say. Which is funny, because I don't sail. Only went out a few times on a family boat. Have you ever gone sailing?"

"N-no?"

"It could be fun, but the ocean is super rough close to shore—"

I paused, yanking her backwards and behind a tent as a figure staggered past. Whatever was keeping me under their radar was enough to keep us out of trouble for the time being. I waited until I was sure we wouldn't be discovered before continuing with my rambling to try distracting her from nerves.

"Anyway, I like rivers better, because they're calm and you can just float down them like driftwood. Ever gone fishing? That's fun, too."

Her brother was ahead. I nearly sighed in relief.

"Chrom!" Of course, the girl couldn't help calling out to him. This drew the attention of two Risen, much to our dismay. "...oops."

"Milady!" Frederick was cutting down his enemy not too far away, and became suspicious when he saw her at my arm. "Are you injured?"

"N-no, I'm fine. Are you? Ah..." She looked sadly at the snapped staff in her hand. "Not that I can do much about it..."

I frowned at this reasoning. "Doesn't it still have magic in— _ack!_ "

I leapt to her defense, spitting out another gale that thankfully didn't send me crashing into her. This blew back one attacker, but there was still an axe coming and I wasn't as combat ready as her butler-knight. I screamed as iron swept across my shoulder. It wasn't deep, but _gods above and below_ it hurt like a motherfucker!

"Fucking—" I didn't want to move the injured shoulder, but I had another arm free to swing in my assailant's direction. And I was absolutely furious. That was perfect fuel for dark magic. " _Eat shit, asshole!_ "

The ball of hatred slammed into the Risen's chest, flinging it backwards to explode against a barrel. Agony stopped me from chasing after it, but I twisted a hand to bring those shadow-fingers up and around its neck to finish the job. The edges of my vision were a bit hazy, but then delicate fingers were shoving a bottle into my face until I managed to dribble half into my mouth. If it was a vulnerary, it was only a temporary fix, but it dulled the pain for a while at least.

"I—shit. Ah, sorry, sailor mouth, I'll—"

Chrom shouted for his lieutenant, as did his sister. Steel was at my throat. It took a moment, but I realized it was Frederick's lance.

I'll be the first to admit that I shipped Frederick _real_ hard with female-Robin. Silly confession scene notwithstanding, the dynamic of suspicious stranger and wary knight was pretty fun to toy with. It didn't help that he looked dapper as hell and got super sappy with his significant other. I regularly called him "Freddy Bear" when talking to my friends, and couldn't help laughing over how overprotective he could be of his charges. He was a fun character, and a beast on the battlefield.

"That was dark magic," he observed, gaze as cold as his lance.

I wasn't laughing at Freddy Bear now. He was a lot more intimidating in-person.

"How did you sneak into Ferox?"

"I-I..." Oh shit, he had seen the dark magic and thought I was a Plegian spy. I couldn't blame him, but _holy shit_ I'd forgotten he was known as Frederick the Wary for good reason. Ice slid into my gut until I could even out my expression. "I didn't, sir."

"Frederick, listen! She saved me—"

"Did she?" The point of his lance pressed closer as he accused, "Or did she summon these foul creatures herself?"

"I didn't—I _wouldn't._ " Deep breaths. _Stay calm stay calm stay calm._ "That's disrespectful to the dead and their families—a-and _why_ would I have them attack the people I'm traveling with?"

"A trap to further the Grimleal's plot, no doubt—"

"I am _not_ a part of the Grimleal," I snapped. My fingers were getting twitchy again. "Grima is _not_ my god, is not _a_ god. And I would _never_ follow the lead of insane morons who think he is!"

Chrom stepped forward, the purple dust of his last opponent dissolving as he spoke. "Frederick, let her go. The West-Khan loaned her to our cause. She's an ally, not an enemy."

"Milord, you can't possibly believe—"

The great knight was interrupted by the _woof_ of flames, and whatever else he might have said was drowned out by the deafening roar that exploded beside us to send him flying off of his horse and me to the ground.

 _Did someone get the guild request for that Rathalos...?_

I had a good upside-down view of Zant's scaly head and his glowing orange eyes. My ears rang painfully, and I swiped a sleeve across my throat to clean blood from being grazed by that lance.

That was too close.

Zant's fury was palpable, but I was too disoriented to make sense of what he was saying at first. I had the giddy thought that he looked like a daddy dragon protecting his clutch. He had one claw pinning the great knight to the ground, and the vents lined along his back spat soot and smoke. He was fuming, quite literally. The world snapped back into focus for me to hear the strange distortion of whatever telepathy-voice-thing manaketes had in their dragon forms.

" _—have far more concrete evidence for such an accusation than what YOU are drawing out to paint this woman as a Grimleal spy._ "

Having a dragon coming to bat for me was pretty freakin' cool, but panic and my heart leapt into my throat as I remembered what he had said before about killing and feeling nothing for it.

"Zant," Chrom came to the rescue an instant before I could open my mouth, "release him! Frederick acted rashly, I know—but still, he was acting in my and my sister's defense."

 _Trust The Fresh Prince of Blue Hair to save the day,_ I thought as I picked myself up off of the ground. The din of combat was quieting around us as people shouted their good health, meaning the Risen were thinning out thanks to the Shepherds' fast response. Thank the gods for small favors.

The prince then turned his focus onto Frederick. "And you. Twice now, you've nearly jeopardized this alliance with Ferox. Never have I been so ashamed and embarrassed of your actions until now, Frederick."

Wait, was Chrom scolding him?

"B-but milor—"

"No buts!" That sounded very scolding-like. I couldn't believe my ears. "When we reach Ylisstol, Emmeryn _will_ be made aware of this. She will deliver your punishment."

 _"Twice now"?_ Just what the hell happened in Ferox that had Frederick being put in the naughty corner?

Frederick seemed to deflate with his liege's words. "Yes, milord. Apologies, milord." When he was allowed to stand, the scaly body smoldered into ash to leave the more human-looking Zant giving the great knight a cold glower.

"Make no mistake, prince," he declared, the growl rumbling beneath my feet, "if this happens again, there _will_ be consequences."

Then he spun on his heel and stalked off; whoever stood in his way moved quickly, and I couldn't blame them. Dragons are cool, but when they're pissed off they're hella scary.

Robin, who had needed a rundown of the situation as he came in towards the end, was apologetic for Frederick's behavior, but I waved it off as something I'd expected to happen. Because really, I shouldn't have been so surprised that Ylisseans were wary around the stuff. Plegia pumped out dark mages like it was going out of style, and it wouldn't be until far later that any could be recruited to Team Shepherds. _That might have been the cause of Lissa's earlier distress, actually._ She'd been through a few battles, but this was her first time witnessing hexes at work.

"There are some awful things that can be done with elder magic," I muttered, using the gentler term. "Risen, for example. But fire burns, and steel cuts. A tool isn't necessarily bad. What matters is what you do with it."

Frederick didn't agree with me—or he just wanted to send another stern look over his shoulder before he followed his liege to reconvene with the other Shepherds. The tactician's gaze was sharp, and I tried not to fidget while he examined my shoulder. Lissa had run off (with a begrudging Lon'qu, following orders to be alert for stragglers) on a mission to find a new staff. I couldn't tell if I was trembling or just filled with adrenaline.

"You didn't mention you practiced dark magic," Robin commented mildly. Probing fingers made me wince.

"I showed you my bag. Didn't you see the purple tome?" His answer was in the negatory. "It... might have been at the bottom. But it's all I've got. Just a book of simple hexes and potions. I can make your armor sparkle and briefly freeze you in place."

"How long have you been practicing?"

 _Urk._ "Not a _super_ long time."

"Meaning...?"

I sighed. "A little over a month."

He drew back. "A month to practice dark magic?"

"Er... a month to practice magic, period." And there was that strange expression again. I must be a bloody marvel to look at, with how often I saw that face. "A very _full_ month of practice."

"You... have a fairly decent grasp, for such an abrupt education."

"I've had several theories about magic, even if my country didn't have any." I shrugged. "I just... matched up how magic works here with one of my theories and went with it. So far, it's working." _Small favors._

"Theories, huh? Heh. You sound just like Miriel."

"Verily," I smiled, earning a real chuckle out of him. I wiped my forehead with a sigh. "I'm jonesing for tea _real_ bad. Need a bit of normalcy after all of this craziness—and that's saying something, coming from _me._ "

"Then let's talk over a cup or two," he offered. "After we get you looked at, of course."

Despite his determination to be friendly, I was fairly certain he just wanted to interrogate me for everything I knew about magic. I was right. I didn't hold it against him, because he shared in kind and gave me new tomes to pour through. My little nerd heart was more than content.

* * *

History in Awakening World pretty much lined up with what I had read through wiki pages and forums in my world, albeit written in a more detailed, archaic fashion. This was the same with the various magic used throughout the centuries and the incantations associated with them. I wasn't as familiar with the golden script that appeared with each spell, but it wasn't necessary to cast anything. (Not that I didn't try learning; it was complicated, and each letter was unnecessarily similar to like five others. Even _my_ nerdom couldn't hold out for that.) I now had a list of various spells I wanted to try, with any required materials I might need to get or circles I might have to draw.

I had also borrowed several historical texts to compare notes, speculate on related plot points... and just to read for fun. I'm a weird-o, sue me.

 _So there's the five gemstones, the shield and the sword._ Parchment crinkling in my hands, I examined my crude sketch and attempted to remember what stone belonged where.

 _Ylisse already has the Lightsphere of course, and at this point Chon'sin should still have theirs... the Geosphere._ I didn't bother remembering their new names for this period, as these were more "true to their roots" and were related to their functions. _Someone had the bright idea of giving the people who worshiped Grima part of the thing that helped seal him away, so they still have the Darksphere. No wonder their leadership is so corrupt._ That thing didn't belong in anyone's hands. I could only hope Gharnef's spirit wasn't still connected to it.

"You give darkness a bad name," I sang in parody. I hummed as I continued musing.

The Lifesphere was in Ferox's hands, more specifically with Basilio. I wasn't willing to reveal that one's presence yet, as I suspected it had something to do with the man's survival of Walhart's savage blows and I didn't want to take any chances. _He kept it safe for a long time._ But Tiki held the last, the Starsphere, and while we didn't have "stats" to enhance I could only assume it was more useful in the Shepherds' hands than in hers. After all, she was sleeping most of the time! The orb could prevent the user's weapons from wearing out! The thing wasn't meant to be a glorified nightlight!

The only problem was, I didn't know if explaining all of this would help or harm their chances against Grima and his followers. Would attempts to retrieve these gemstones fail because it wasn't "their time"? Would Gangrel's forces (or later, Validar's) intercept correspondence or delegates and gain dreadful knowledge? And even if we got all of them—even if we somehow managed to wrestle the fifth from Plegia and restore the Shield of Seals to its former glory—would that circumvent the lengthy plot in a favorable manner? And this was assuming everyone believed me in the first place.

All of these questions and more were recorded, backwards and in Germanic runes, in my notes. Then they were hidden in several tomes. I couldn't have anyone stumbling upon this information willy-nilly, after all.

Call me paranoid, but I'd had steel aimed in my direction one too many times and I wasn't too keen on answering anymore inquiries on my peculiar knowledge of this place.

Pulling my hair back, I went to lighter subjects. Like dark magic!

It was rather interesting, I thought, that the nosferatu spell was currently considered dark but had inexplicably flipped between that and light throughout history. (I considered telling Frederick this but decided against it. _Pro-Tip Number Four: Never tickle a sleeping Freddy Bear._ ) Of course, the purple tome I owned barely mentioned it and only as a part of dark mages' repertoire; the book I was borrowing from Lissa didn't mention it at all.

"Gods save us from snooty mages," I snorted, "and their political games."

 _That's directed at YOU, Validar._

"What're you mumbling about?"

" _Eek!_ "

I stumbled against Miriel, who looked annoyed that I had disrupted her perusal of a manuscript, before lowering my own reading material. (I've been told over and over again not to walk with my nose in a book, but by this point I'd perfected the art. Miriel also seemed to be an expert.)

The princess' face beamed, mischief twinkling in her eyes; it had me double-checking that nothing frog-like was in her vicinity. "Sooo," she sang, inching closer, "what're you _mumbling_ about?"

"Sorry," I giggled. I was pleased if she had indeed gotten over the other day's unease. "I do that sometimes. A lot of times. All the time. What are _you_ doing?"

"Marching with everyone else. But _you_ seemed to be off in your own little world!"

 _You can say that again._ But I kept the interdimensional-traveling jokes to myself. And I wasn't about to mention Miriel's own spacing-out and risk interrupting her reading again. It might prompt her to start another interrogation to learn all she could about dark magic, as if I was a freakin' sorcerer's encyclopedia for her to peruse.

"Just reading about healing magic," I admitted to Lissa, not that she hadn't recognized her own tome. "Distracting myself with it seemed like a good idea to keep my mind off of how much my foot's going to ache tonight."

"Don't you mean your feet?"

"No—well, yes, but my left foot in particular. I got it ran over... by a cart, years ago."

"Oh, _ouch._ " Lissa then frowned. "Wait... you did?"

"Yep. It's a long story, and it was my own damn fault that—"

"But I didn't see any signs of a healed fracture when I examined you," she argued. I gave an incredulous look that had her cheeks puffing out. "I swear!"

"Er, okay, but that's impossible. I've had this for years, and I always feel it when the climate changes, or when I'm on my feet for too..."

I trailed off, trying to remember the last time I'd actually felt my foot ache.

"...wait a second."

I pulled back a sleeve, squinting at the underside of my left arm. I ran a finger along the bridge of my nose. I examined each hand very carefully, rolled my shoulders, felt my chin, peered awkwardly at my collarbone...

"Uh... what are you doing?"

I was too focused to stop and explain. Instead I asked, "Hey, do you have a hand mirror?"

"Sure, but what—" I was already walking away. "Hey, wait up!"

I slipped through bodies to get out of everyone's way, earning some curious glances. My leg was blemish-free as well, and when I held up the offered mirror...

"What the... fuck?"

I couldn't find any of my scars. And my dark brown hair was liberally streaked with white.

 _How long have I looked like this? Since I've been in Awakening World?_ How could I have avoided learning about this for so long?

 _...oh, right, I never look in mirrors._

It wasn't surprising because of the color, but of the _amount_ of it. I've lived with white hair since I was eight. (My father had to convince child-me I wasn't dying.) Most of the time, my hair was parted or covered in a way that it wasn't incredibly obvious to others. But _this_ was reaching anime levels of special. Had I become Death the Kid? Maybe more like Rogue, like my mother joked.

"Uh, Megan?"

Blinking, I turned to the princess, who had waited impatiently for answers to countless questions over the past few minutes. "Are you _sure_ my foot isn't injured?"

"I'm super sure!"

"Huh." Glancing back into the mirror, I finally enlightened the poor gal. "My scars and old injuries have mysteriously disappeared, and my hair grew even whiter. That's..."

"Weird?"

" _Really freakin' cool!_ "

"Huh?"

I twirled a full circle and hopped on my left foot, grinning widely. "Do you know how awful it is to feel when it's going to rain? I was like an old lady!" Flipping my ponytail, I laughed. "Sure, the white hair doesn't really help in that regard, but that doesn't bother me. Hell, my mom always told me I was an old soul!"

It was strange, but in the end not high on my priorities. I mean, I was yanked into the world of _Fire Emblem!_ If I was given some magical makeover to better fit Awakening World, who was I to complain?

 _Especially with THIS kind of bonus! No aches and pains! Woot, woot!_

My merriment was interrupted by a shout; I noticed some of the Shepherds had stopped marching to watch my antics, and I wiggled cheerful fingers in their direction until I noticed the disapproval on the great knight's face. My smile turned sheepish, and I mouthed "sorry" only for him to ignore it and return to Chrom's side.

 _Pretty sure we're at Z-Rank Support right now._

"Sorry about Frederick," Lissa began, but I waved her off like I had Robin.

"It's all right, I understand his distrust. I've been on the bad end of some axes, so Vaike made me a little twitchy when he started twirling one around."

I mimicked the action until she giggled. Satisfied, I followed her back into line so the others could stop wondering what the hell I was doing with their princess. But Lissa was practically glued to my side now, especially since the topic of my hair had been opened for discussion.

"Can I do your hair sometime? I think you'd look _great_ with braids!"

"Sure?"

 _Look at me, having "girl talk."_ I mentally snorted. This land really was a magical place.

* * *

It was only very, very late that evening that I sat up in my tent with a curse.

"I totally forgot about Kellam!"

Man, it was unfair how easily that happened. I vowed to fight against this injustice.

.

* * *

 _I must say, things get pretty crazy when two writers are working on the same project. And when two other writers toss in their ideas... Are you guys prepared for what we have in store for you?_

 _Well, that's good! 'Cause we certainly aren't!_

 _-Dragon_

 _Author's Final Review of Chapter: Good... but needs more than one carrying-main-character-away scenes._


	6. A little bit of Awkward in my life

_—a little bit of Magic by my side. A little bit of Tea is all I need. A little bit of Silly is what I see...~_

 _Apologies for the wait! Hope you didn't all die waiting. *gently pats readers' heads* This dragon lady would be very sad if you did._

* * *

.

 _Out of the wintry landscape, and into spring!_

Ylisse had a far milder climate than its northern neighbor, for which I was grateful. I'm a big baby who hates being cold.

It also had a lot more sunlight, for which I was _not_ grateful. After marching through Ferox's nearly perpetual cloud cover and flurries the past month-and-some-change, having sun rays dancing across my face was surprisingly a nuisance. Not that I was ever much of a fan of sunlight to begin with; I was essentially nocturnal, back home, and excessive sunlight made me tired. Miriel was a godsend when she managed to procure a mage hat at my request, smaller than hers but still effective.

(The cost was being forced into an intellectual tête-à-tête that lasted hours when I made the mistake of mentioning gravity. She latched onto any words she didn't recognize and forced me to make increasingly evasive remarks until she was satisfied with what I would give her. I love everyone here, but _gods,_ I needed a few hours of alone time after _that_ interrogation!)

The Shepherds set up camp for the night, eager to get home, but I was still full of energy. There wasn't a lot left to do, so I grabbed a tome to work off some steam. On my way through the tents, however, I stopped to greet the fire dragon that had saved my hide from Frederick's suspicion. I'd already given my thanks, but I wanted to be sure he didn't think I was avoiding him or anything. _I mean, we're pal-iwogs! Just because I need alone time doesn't mean I can't force myself to spend a little time with people from my "home world"!_ And since Kail was still in Ferox, it looked like Mister Dragon Man was my victim—I mean, go-to friend.

"Heya," I said cheerfully. "How're you doing, Sir Zant?" With eye witnesses around, I couldn't act super familiar with a "stranger," but it was too tempting to tease him.

He chuckled at the address. "None of that "sir" stuff, Lady Megan. I am no knight, and all the title gives you in Ferox is an oversized suit of armor."

 _Hear, hear._ Kellam had some competition in the armor department. Grinning, I shot back, "Well, in _that_ case, don't call me a "lady." I've been told my vocabulary doesn't exactly fit. Just Megan is fine!"

I half-expected Zant to say "hello, Just Megan" just for shits and giggles, but he refrained from the obvious joke. (I guess that was more of my forte.) "Very well then, Megan. So, I hear you're from a far away country?"

"Yep. My homeland can be pretty neat." It was weird to talk about it like he didn't already know about it, but it gave me the opportunity to say ridiculous things like this: "But epic stories of warriors with dragon souls or turnip-throwing princesses can't compare to being in a place of legend."

I crossed my arms, leaning forward to feign intrigue. "I heard _you_ came from Plegia—or, what it was before it was Plegia."

The way he had introduced himself to Robin, apparently, had sent the man running to Chrom with the idea that he'd recruited a Plegian dragon. Whatever alibi the manakete was giving had put _him_ at the end of Frederick's lance, as well. When it turned out that, as a manakete, Zant would've far outlived the nation now harassing its neighbors, the incident had been the source of much embarrassment for Robin. Likely for Frederick, as well. I was getting the feeling that us dimension-walkers were making a bad impression on the great knight.

"Meh." Zant dismissed the news as old hat. "Hardly anyone these days has even heard of Doluna."

"Soooo," I went on, keeping up our little charade, "any idea why some Plegians would kidnap little ol' me?"

 _I would HOPE Plegians didn't find a way to abduct people from other universes, or everyone here is screwed._

He donned a thoughtful expression, as if considering his "vast experience" of the desert nation in order to answer my question. "As for being kidnapped, new land equals new knowledge, spells, weapons, and such like. Though how you ended up in Ferox is beyond me."

 _Ditto, bud._ I leaned back, tapping my upper arm. "Mm, you make a good point. Not that I know anything more than, I don't know—" I gestured vaguely. "—a military-trained person would. So the joke's on them."

JROTC definitely didn't count, no matter that I'd spent all of high school in it. That was only as a cadet. Here, I was just playing at being a soldier.

Nodding at my own thoughts, I continued, "Now that _that_ question is out of the way... I have to ask: Do you _really_ have a fire in your belly?" No, I was _not_ letting that joke die. But an honest question lied behind the silly grin. "Or does the fiery sensation only happen when you use it?"

He didn't react to the joke, but at least he answered me. "No so much fire in my belly as a thick heaviness in my chest."

"Huh, interesting..." I hadn't put much deep thought into it before, but being a manakete likely brought more differences to the table than having a Sailor Moon transformation sequence and wicked horns.

And Zant had that strange partial-morphing thing, to boot. Did that mean he could accidentally breathe fire out of his manakete form's lungs? If he could, how in the world could he live after that, let alone breathe? Did dragons have some inherent magical force that kept their own powers from hurting themselves, even on two fleshy legs? But then, how did the "wyrmsbane" skill make it possible for manaketes to deal extra damage to each other? Did that protective magic only apply to their own powers, and not to outside forces? Then again, it seemed the Divine Dragons had a specialty with hurting their kin... the Falchion had been forged from Naga's fang, after all, and it was worth a wyrmslayer-and-a-half.

"...huh."

Dragons were so cool. And complicated. But still cool.

Zant spoke up, shaking me from my geek-out spiral so I could realize I had been staring at his chest this entire time, as if I could mentally dissect him. Meet Megan, the woman so talented she could make anything awkward with a single extended glance!

"So," he said, "word around camp is that you can use will magic. Not many outside of Plegia are open-minded enough to learn the art."

"Hm?" What was he talking about?

...wait. "Oh. If you mean elder magic, then yeah, I've been looking into it." _And by looking into it, I mean reading this single tome front-to-back, back-to-front, over and over again in the hopes of squeezing every last drop of usefulness out of it, and myself._ Tomes on the subject likely weren't circulating by the hundreds outside of Plegia. "It's a useful tool, despite the bad reputation." (And now "Bad Reputation" was in my head.) "At the very least, I can learn how to defend against it."

"Oh, so you know it's real classification. Most idiots these days call it dark magic, when it is anything but." Zant shook his head in disdain.

"I know! It's so frustrating!" I was totally on board if he wanted to rewire how people around here perceived dark magic. _Gamers unite!_ "I know it's because people equate "dark" to "bad," but they sleep or enjoy the stars at night, don't they?" I touched the rim of my new hat. "Sometimes the light is too bright. Darkness can be quiet, and calm. I've always believed there should be a balance."

"Well, these things happen when power is abused."

I sighed. _And so much more in the future will make it all worse._

"It's still stupid. It's like... hating all dogs because one bit you. The actions of one do not dictate the nature of all." I didn't let one or two bites to the face prevent me from lavishing every puppy I see with more love than they can handle.

"True," he conceded before arguing, "but anyone can own a dog. Not a lot of mages, however, have a talent for the elder arts." Another good point. "With superstition and hate for the art crippling its education in other nations, Plegia has a monopoly on dark mages. And with the actions of Plegia and its past religious orders, it has only assured the minds of other nations that such magic is evil."

"From Gharnef to Grima... Well, I'm sick of it." The shortsightedness and prejudice of people would never cease to disappoint me, or get my "education engine" revving. Growling, I lifted my chin and told him, "I'm using "dark magic" to do good things. It won't change the world, but if I can change some minds to accept that a tool isn't morally inclined one way or the other, that'll be a start."

Even if I didn't make much of a difference, there would be dark mages like Tharja and Henry to pave the way for a better understanding of the good uses for dark magic other than nosferatu or goetia. I knew it would take more than a few conversations to erase the bad history between Plegia and Ylisse, but I didn't doubt that the Shepherds were the ones capable of changing supposed "fate."

Zant was quiet for a bit, mulling over something. Then he stepped a bit closer, lowering his voice for my ears alone.

"Have you thought of any plans regarding the failure of long-term goals?"

I kept a straight face. "I will concede failure is a possibility," I replied just as quietly, "but I endeavor to hope for the best... even as I prepare for the worst."

It was a bit depressing how often doing that was necessary.

"I'm just saying," he continued, "if getting home proves impossible, maybe you'd be willing to create an elder magic academy within Ylisse."

 _It hasn't even been two months, and he's already considering a life here?_ I snorted. "Fat chance of _that_ happening. Even best-case scenario, I don't see that going well." I kept carefully neutral as I told him, "I'll adapt to whatever future we make."

 _Which I certainly hope is a future where everyone lives and we all get home._

"But say anything about fate or inevitability and I'll hit you."

"Don't put the idea down just yet," he insisted, adopting a nefarious look on his face. "It may be more possible than you give it credit for." I couldn't help my answering grin, because damn if he didn't remind me of a mischievous hatchling preparing to nibble on some toes.

"Oh, really?" I lifted a challenging eyebrow. "And what makes you say that?"

"Well, for one thing, just how many people do you think do things solely because they're told not to?"

My hand rose. "Do I count for this question?" Grin widening, I shifted my weight to my other leg and decided to humor him. "Okay, _assuming_ people don't burn me at the stake for the idea, what makes you think I'm any good at being a teacher-person? Especially to _kids?_ "

"First, you're exciting." He sounded like he'd had that one ready. "Nothing engages the kids to a lesson like making it _fun._ Second, it's new. Everyone wants to try new and cool things."

 _He's making me sound like the main heroine from Library Wars,_ I mused, shaking my head. _But she was a LOT better with kids. I just act like a kid with them and hope nothing goes horribly wrong._ Still, the academy wasn't a bad idea. Not one that _I_ should be coordinating, obviously, but maybe Miriel would take up the idea. Or Ricken. _Or both!_ Helping out as a guest was much preferable to being in charge.

Watching me consider his words, Zant's impish look grew.

"Well, food for thought, I suppose." He looked far too smug. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think Sumia forgot to lock the enclosure gate. Wouldn't do for Sully's horse to get out, would it now?"

Such a predictable blunder of the always adorable Sumia made me giggle-snort. "Of course not. I've heard that horse is a real menace." I waved and told him to take care. Shaking my head, I muttered to myself, " "Exciting," he says... clearly doesn't realize this is the most time I've spent around people than the last five years _combined..._ "

"I heard that," he shouted over his shoulder, making me jump. _How the—_ "And you give yourself too little credit, Megan."

I rolled my eyes.

 _Manakete senses. What a cheater._

"I'll be the judge of that," I shouted back.

Damn it, but I was grinning now. Double cheater!

 _Fine! Fine. I'll THINK about it, "Zant."_

* * *

I was starting to miss Ferox, believe it or not.

Not because of the cold. The world would freeze over before I started liking the cold. It wasn't really because of the "being carried around" thing either, although that stopped being so annoying and started being kind of funny. It was more with how else they treated me—Basilio, Jael, and other random Feroxi who heard my story from them or asked me themselves. Suddenly, I was as Feroxi as they were, like I'd passed some initiation by bumbling into Lon'qu and fighting for the West-Khan against those "strange men." They had been treating me kind of like a little sister, and I desperately needed the friendly interactions.

(I'm going to politely ignore Zhent's presence there. He doesn't count.)

That's not to say that the Shepherds weren't kind and welcoming, but after being lugged around like a suitcase their way felt a lot more reserved in comparison. Other than a few persistent people (Robin, Lissa and Miriel) I wasn't approached often for conversation. I sort of stumbled into them instead. And of course, Frederick took the torch from Zhent on being wary of my very existence.

Assigned to help with dinner one evening, I sized up both Robin and Sully and said, "Menu tonight is vegetable stew, and Sully already has the veggies... what am _I_ doing, sir?" I was surprised she was allowed in here at all, but maybe they hadn't been given the _privilege_ of tasting her food.

"Think you can handle stirring?"

"I don't know," I joked, "I might accidentally hex the whole pot!"

"Better make it a _delicious_ hex," he shot back with a grin, handing over the spoon. I gave "yes, milord" with a dramatic curtsy to make him chuckle, something I was getting good at with these people. (Well, some of them. Lon'qu had the best of frowns going, only to be outdone by Freddy Bear and disturbed-from-reading Miriel.)

"This reminds me of cooking with my mom," I hummed after some time, stirring this way and that. "Granted, that had more singing involved. But this is nicely nostalgic."

"Really?" Ah, damn, I was talking about memories to the amnesiac again. At least he was focusing on his intrigue instead of his lack as he pressed, "You sing?"

"Out of boredom." I waved the subject away, returning to the more important subject of the chore in question. "It's been years, but this makes it feel like just yesterday I was helping her make her amazing, spectacular, _stupendous_ spaghetti."

"Spaghetti?"

"It's, well, this dish with long, thin noodles, a tomato-base sauce, sometimes meatballs and mushrooms and... anyway, it's delicious, and she made it the _beeest._ "

"That _sounds_ delicious. Maybe you should show us how to make that once we reach Ylisstol."

"Ha! Me, teach how to cook? You're funny, good sir. It's been _ages._ "

He was in the middle of saying something about me probably being better than others (which Sully caught and was about to yell at him for) when a blue-haired prince came around the corner with an exasperated, " _Robin!_ I—can we—talk over here? Really quick?"

"Chrom? ...is this about the post—"

" _Yes! Please_ don't mention it! Just follow me and _don't laugh!_ "

 _Oh, did THAT incident happen today? Poor man._ I pretended to cough, with dubious results. I'm pretty sure Robin was grinning before he followed the captain, swearing he'd send a replacement and giving me reigns of seasoning in the meantime. I imagined both of them racing around camp, tearing down poster after poster, and started snickering.

"What're _you_ chuckling about over there?"

I smiled at Sully, shaking my head. "Nothing important! Just silly thoughts."

"Well, damn, leave me hangin', then!"

"You'll hear about it later, I promise! Probably over dinner!"

There was a pause, filled by the _thunk_ of a knife and my spoon sloshing around the pot. Then, as I expected to happen with most anyone who stood around me long enough, Sully opened her mouth to ask, "So, what's this America place like, anyway?"

Wow, what was I, a walking advert for America? Not that I could blame these people. I wanted them to wax poetry on their countries, and they probably had similar thoughts to that. So I gave her some anecdotes, in exchange for a few stories of her own.

I had known that Sully was from a well-off family, but I hadn't realized how much political bull she had to deal with growing up. I guess I had just assumed, since she'd been able to play rough with Chrom in her childhood and become part of the original Shepherds, that she had avoided most of that crap. (Then again, she might complain to Donnel about that sort of thing later on. I couldn't really remember.) I could sympathize entirely with that, albeit less political and more social. She then expressed envy for my worldly adventures.

"I've been to deserts, mountains, even an island or two," I said with not a small amount of pride.

"Sounds like you're a nomad."

"Ha! Now that you mention it, that's pretty accurate for how I feel. Moving, settling down and starting fresh, then packing up and moving all over again. My latest home I still haven't been in long. At least I've been within the same state for several years—the same part of my country, I mean."

"How the hell did you end up in Ferox?"

I shrugged. "Not a clue! The current suspicion is kidnapping, but other than that... I might as well have been plucked from home and dropped into another world." I might've enjoyed saying a truth she wouldn't catch a little too much. The universe was going to get me back for that, I guarantee it.

Sully grunted, plopping the vegetables she'd sliced into one of the pots I was in charge of. "Need help?" she asked.

"Naw, I got it. Thank you, though!" I already had a helper.

The cavalier went back to chopping, and conversation. "So where's your muscle? You're pretty puny for one of Ferox's wards!"

" _Thanks._ " I rolled my eyes. "I'm not as gung-ho about muscles as the people in Ferox were. I'm okay with magic and stuff."

"Hell no, you ain't!" Sully jerked a thumb at the rest of camp, grinning. "When we get to Ylisstol, you're joining the rest of us for Frederick's Fanatical Fitness Hour!"

 _Oh, boy._ "Uhh, thanks, buuuut no thanks? I'm just trying to get home and all. Don't think I need to be built as tough as you or Frederick."

"What the hell did you do in Ferox? Sit around, reading books?"

"And feasting," I added with a grin. "That was some damn good food! I haven't had steak in _ages._ When they pulled _that_ out, I scarfed it down like a starving man!"

"Ha, you'd be chummy with Stahl! Long as you don't steal his dinner!"

"Hee, wouldn't dream of it!"

"...but seriously, you're training with us, pal."

"Aw, come on, are ya trying to kill me?"

"A little exercise won't kill ya! Unless you're weak. But we can exercise that weakness out of ya."

"...by killing me?"

"By training you!"

I sighed, realizing she wasn't letting me get out of this. "Woof, woof." _Maybe I can make a run for it once we hit Ylisstol._ Her being trained to ride a demon horse kind of put a damper on that plan, though. _Well, fuck._

Sully seemed amused by my resignation, and a little smug. "It's a damn shame," she went on. "Didn't have enough time to challenge more Feroxi. And that arse of a swordsman won't fight me properly!"

I choked.

"You tried fighting Lon'qu?"

"Hell yeah!" _Thunk,_ went that knife. What an ominous sound. "But he insulted me by holding back. If he does it again, I'll throttle him!"

"Wait, wait—" I set aside the spoon and turned to her, palms up apologetically as if I was the man's keeper. "It's not what you think! It's not because—well, _technically,_ it's because you're female, but it's not doubt! Anyone can see how crazy strong you are!"

Sully didn't look any happier after my praise. "The hell is his problem, then?"

"It... erm..." I didn't like talking about other people's issues without them present. "It's complicated?"

"Wyvern dung, "it's complicated"! I'll beat the tar out of him!"

"How about you don't and say you did?"

"How about I shove my foot _right_ up his—"

"That sounds lovely, but maybe not now?" Miming a knife in my hand, I pointed out, "We have food to finish preparing, and I'd really appreciate it if you didn't try killing friends mid-supper. Right, Kellam?"

"R-right."

Sully jumped, then swore. "Geez, pipsqueak, when did _you_ get here?!"

"He's been here," I replied for the man as he sighed. "You didn't see him come in?" Granted, I had only noticed him when I was being passed utensils with the cavalier still across the room, but she'd been training and fighting alongside this guy far longer than my time in this world, period! _You would've thought her Shepherd Senses would start tingling!_

"He's like a ghost!"

"Please don't call me that," the knight pleaded, causing me to giggle. Had that started up already, too?

"Lissa said we should tie a bell to him."

I outright laughed at that, much to Kellam's displeasure. I turned to pat his arm, explaining, "I totally disagree. Your magical hiding powers are wonderful just the way they are. Never change, man."

"Thanks...?"

* * *

The palace was larger than I had expected. The pictures had _not_ done it justice.

Ylisstol was bustling; people walked the cobblestone streets with a variety of expressions on their faces, making my fingers itch for a writing utensil. Every shop had colorful signage and eager patrons. Everyone looked so happy here, I developed a bounce in my step. Lissa was excited to be back home, and I half-listened to her gushing about the capital for a while. There was a bustling market that she loved to visit—escorted by Frederick, of course—and citizens shouted happily when they saw us passing by.

 _The royal family, and the Shepherds, sure have a full fan club here._ Guess I shouldn't have expected anything less, being in the halidom. _Rah-rah, go Team Ylisse?_

She was really into this tour, but I couldn't help my mind wandering off. When she paused for breath, I asked Kellam on my other side, "Do all of the Shepherds live here?"

"More or less," he replied, making the blonde jump. She hadn't realized he was there; I made it a point to have Kellam tap my shoulder every now and then, so I'd known for the past half hour. He was more than happy to converse, the poor guy. "We sleep in the barracks if we're not out on patrol, training and helping around the palace. It's not as luxurious as you might think, but it's home."

"I bet. You're all pretty cool people," I grinned, "so you must get along _most_ of the time. Barring some friendly "arguments" and "competitions." "

"That about sums it up, yes."

"What was _your_ home like," Lissa asked. She'd been peppering me with questions like this for a few days, and although I was aiming to return home soon I was still enjoying my travels with them and glad to share some stories of my own.

"Not _nearly_ this big," I joked, earning a giggle and roll of her eyes. "But I live with two of my best friends in a place big enough. We split payments and get along very well, for the most part. We live in a nice part of town, too, but I generally stay holed up in my room if I'm not at my job."

Hopefully, whatever had brought me here would be nice enough to take me back home to the same point I'd left. Otherwise, I was going to be behind on a month's rent, and in need of an explanation for a sudden, mysterious absence. Of course, then I'd have aged without any record of it, and that would get confusing to keep track of... But I could worry about that later. One thing at a time.

"What do you do?"

"I serve drinks and snacks in a bookstore."

"Huh... sounds peaceful," Kellam commented.

"Sounds _boring,_ " the princess argued.

I snorted at her assessment. "It's my kind of boring. I don't like a whole lot of excitement."

"Hmm..." I didn't like the contemplative look on Lissa's face. She straightened her spine, fueling my worries as she declared, "Well, it sounds like you need to learn how to goof off, so I'll have to show you some of _my_ fun!"

 _Uh-oh._ "I goof off plenty!"

"Work and hiding in your room does _not_ count!" She winked at my obvious dismay, and I sympathized with Frederick if only for a millisecond. "Heehee, don't worry! I'll show you how it's done."

 _Great._ If I didn't find a way to wriggle out of this, I was going to be dragged into whatever Lissa considered "excitement." I wasn't sure I wanted to find out. After all, she could prank the patience out of Robin.

This train of thought brought up the question of "Support conversations" and how that translated to Real Life. It was probably stupid to compare, because obviously four conversations does not a marriage make, but how close _were_ all of these people with each other? It wasn't like I could walk up to everyone and ask about their friendship levels. Did my presence interfere with any of this? Hopefully it wouldn't change things enough that everything was fucked after I left, but the question remained... I'd have to do some people-watching just to be sure.

"Ooh, I can't _wait_ to show you around the palace!" The princess was already on another topic entirely as the Shepherds stepped through an ornate arch into the front courtyard. "I'm sure Maribelle will like you... probably... er, just give her a little time... oh! I can introduce you over tea!"

"Sounds fun," I chuckled.

 _I could dig some more teatime._

"And Emm is _really_ nice! That's my big sister. She may be the Exalt and all, but..."

I had stopped at the name. I didn't pay attention to the rest of her words, or the others stepping around me, as my gaze trailed up the stairs leading to the yawning doors of the palace.

Emmeryn was in there.

Fingernails dug into my palms.

I knew that I needed to follow everyone inside, but the sudden thought of coming face-to-face with a woman who would go down in history for _falling_ down in the name of a legend had just struck me. After the first playthrough or two, Emmeryn's death had stopped making such an impact—because obviously I saw it coming, and especially because the extra missions meant you could recruit her, damaged but alive. (Though, I felt doing so cheapened her death and the pacifist morals she upheld to the end.) But I knew the pain of losing family, sudden and unexpected in less than ideal circumstances. And now, I was within walking distance and I could see, with my own eyes, the woman I had never managed to save from a terrible fate...

 _What should I do?_

Really, what _could_ I do?

"What seems to be the problem?"

I shrieked, startling some birds into flight and the cavaliers who were walking past. Stahl and Sully gave me odd looks, but I waved them off before I turned to Frederick. He towered over me, flinty stare too intense for my liking. Of course, the act of standing in the middle of the courtyard was just too suspicious for Frederick the Wary to let slide...

 _Damn. Is there a negative support past Z-Rank?_ My inner sass was still in full force, thankfully. That was a good sign that I could hold it together.

I ducked my head with a mumble that might've been an apology in another language. The great knight's presence behind me was the only reason I managed to climb those stairs, when I wasn't sure I didn't want to run back into town. My attempt to turn and find one of the Shepherds I'd made partial acquaintances with was thwarted when a firm hand on my shoulder insisted I follow him, all the way to the room the royal siblings were meeting in. _Is he still angry about getting in trouble because of me?_ I might've been grateful he didn't grip hard enough to bruise, except he was reminding me of an annoying chaperone or super-strict school dean.

It was apparent that introductions had already been started, as the first words out of Chrom's mouth were, "Ah, here she is. Emm, this is Megan."

Oh, gods. The blonde woman was looking at me now. Tall, delicate, yet absolutely radiant. Hair curling gently from her golden halo of a crown, I couldn't even be irritated that the design of her collar merely counted one-to-ten in Roman numerals. Emmeryn, Exalt of Ylisse, stood with the graceful air of one who wished only for the world's happiness.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," the Exalt greeted.

Her voice was gentle and warm, and her smile was so peaceful that...

 _How could anyone let her die?_

"Hm? Are you all right?"

Ah shit, I was making a scene, gaping at her like that. I had to act natural! Confident! Like I wasn't struck by how much this woman reminded me of my mother!

So the first thing I said was a blunt, "You're beautiful."

Nailed it.

From Chrom's side, my delightful manakete friend purred, "Oh, my."

Wow, what a traitor.

To say that people were looking at me oddly would be a disservice to the magnitude of "wtf" many of them were sporting. It was practically an accomplishment worthy of an "achievement unlocked" notification popping up in the heads-up-display of life. Show Stopper: Unlocked by stunning a room of royalty and their guards. _If only my friends could see me now._

Glancing over to see just how baffled and disapproving Frederick was, I cleared my throat to dispel the awkward silence. "What? I'm just calling it like I see it. It clearly runs in the family."

"Oh, don't go looking at her like that," Zant huffed, "she's just trying to be polite."

Well, at least he had my back after having his fun.

The Exalt moved right along, brushing aside my comment on her family's appearance. _I guess she's dealt with stranger things, as Exalt of Ylisse._

"Then Regna Ferox will support Ylisse?" She smiled warmly. "Thank you, Chrom. I knew sending you was the right choice." He looked extremely pleased with her praise, and I couldn't stop the grin as I thought, _Aw, what an adorable little brother!_

"You should have seen Zant's fight with the other champion Ferox is lending us! Perhaps now our people will be safe—"

Hurried footsteps brought attention to an older warrior, a woman who looked rather harried and out of breath.

 _Oh, right. This part._

"Your Grace!"

* * *

As I expected, Maribelle needed rescuing, and we were preparing to march that night. I could understand the urgency, although I was surprised they were all right with marching under a darkening sky. Perhaps it was because the terrain around Ylisstol was very familiar to the Shepherds and they wanted a headstart while they could get it. Whatever their reasoning, I didn't need to prepare (considering all I owned was in the heavy-as-hell backpack waiting in the barracks) and decided to take the opportunity to wander the halls of the palace. There was the chance I wouldn't experience such architecture once I returned home, so now was as good a time as any. And if getting home proved as difficult as I thought... well, it would be good to have a layout of the place just in case.

" _Pardonne-moi,_ " I said, in probably the worst French accent, to the elderly servant I nearly bumped into around a corner. Eyeing her basket filled to the brim with clothes and towels, I couldn't help asking, "Do you need any help, ma'am?"

"No, no, I've got it. You're too kind, dear."

"Okay, well, don't work _too_ hard!"

I smiled and waved farewell, heart a little warmed by the sweet old lady working as hard as anyone else. _Granted, she probably wouldn't have been so sweet to me if she saw the Plegian garb beneath my clothes,_ I sighed to myself.

Turning around to continue on my way, I heard a heavy _thud_ that had me quickly whirling back to check on her. _OH GOD SHE HAD A HEART ATTACK, I KNEW I SHOULD'VE—_ But no, she was just fine, albeit adjusting her hold on the cumbersome basket. Furrowing my brow, I stood and waited.

 _Thud._

Okay, that one was behind me. I turned back and continued a little down the hall, stopping once more to listen. I followed this pattern of hearing noises and tracing them until, finally, I caught sight of a door protesting the abuse it experienced from whatever was on the other side. Wary, I silently approached and tried to determine if it was friend or foe.

 _THUD._

" _Damn... door..._ "

I blinked. _Okay, it's sentient, at least. I guess the only way to find out WHO it is, is—_ Reaching over, I gave the door three firm raps. A moment of silence.

"...hello?"

"Hello," I parroted back, amused and baffled. _The things I stumble upon in this world._ "Everything okay in there?" I heard some colorful language and joked, "Hey, I'm just wondering, 'cause you scared the shite outta me with all your thumping."

"...the door is jammed."

With more words came better clarity of the mystery voice, and I couldn't help the incredulous, "Lon'qu?"

" _Yes,_ " came the reluctant mutter from the other side. I tried really hard not to laugh as he growled, "I was... attempting escape and may have broken the lock in my haste to close the door."

"Too many women in the castle, I'm guessing." Oops, maybe I was teasing him a little.

" _Woman..._ "

" _Man,_ " I shot back, leaning against the wall. When he continued muttering, I smothered a giggle before inquiring, "Have you tried applying leverage?"

" _How?_ "

"I dunno, like... a crowbar or something? I've just heard people telling characters to "apply leverage" when they're in these messes and figured I'd give it a shot."

"This is a large closet. There's nothing to "apply leverage" with in here."

"Okay, okay, I'll help." I stared at the door, contemplating. "...huh. I don't know any lockpicking hexes. If you can even pick a broken lock. You push, I'll pull?"

This did not work. Probably because if Mr. West-Ferox Champion couldn't budge it, there was no way in hell adding my barely-over-hundred-pounds would make a difference.

" _Damn,_ you did a real number on this door." I leaned against it, wishing I had more muscles. "I'd go get help, but that'd be pretty embarrassing. It's bad enough you got stuck in here in the first place." This brought more muttering. "Okay, brainstorm, brainstorm... Maybe making the door cold would contract the wood? Making it smaller and easier to open...?"

(Shut up, I'm not a scientist. I have a piddly grasp of science, at best.)

"Can you do that?"

"Er... I don't know any ice spells, no." Frowning, I asked, "Is that a thing, here? Ice magic? I mean, there's fire and wind—"

"How would _I_ know?"

"I don't know, but you never know until you ask!"

"Megan?"

Yipping in surprise, I whipped around to see the blonde princess coming down the hall. _Ah, shit._ Affecting a casual lean, I greeted very loudly, "Oh _hey,_ Lissa! Fancy meeting you here!" This kept Lon'qu silent.

Giving me a strange look, Lissa asked, "Were you just talking to the door?"

I rolled my eyes, scoffing with my automatic grin. "Lissa, you've heard me talking to myself on multiple occasions. Isn't a door, like, a step up from that?"

"Huh, that's true..." Cheeks puffing out, she pressed, "Then why aren't you getting ready? We're marching tonight to save Maribelle!"

"I know, I know!" Her impatience was understandable, if misdirected at me. "I'm all set and ready to roll out! This is just me mentally preparing myself for the march and stuff. Y'know, like meditating, but with a lot of wandering instead."

"Doesn't walking a bunch hurt your foot?"

A much brighter smile swept onto my face as I cackled, "Not anymore, it doesn't!" I did a little hop to emphasize how not-in-pain it was.

"Oh, riiight, I forgot about that." Seeming to have run out of complaints, she gave a little huff. "Okay, fine, but we're gonna be leaving soon! Don't be late!"

"I wouldn't dream of it!" Saluting her, I shooed the princess off so I could "go back to talking to my best friend Mr. Door" and laughed at the face she made over her shoulder. It was only after she was around the corner that I returned to my self-appointed task. "Still alive in there?"

"Unfortunately."

"Cool." I dramatically cracked my knuckles for the audience of myself. "Okay, Mr. Door, as your best friend, I have to insist that you stop being stuck and let my other friend out of there."

 _...pfft._ I had to bite back another giggle. _How many fanfic writers out there would love to say that they helped Lon'qu out of the closet?_ Oh, the boy-love fans would rejoice...

Still, that door was _not_ cooperating, even after I sweet-talked it. Trying to jimmy the lock did nothing—he really _had_ messed it up—and I couldn't find anything to pry it open with on my side either. Kicking it did little but hurt me, and I grabbed my foot with a swear only to unbalance myself and smack into the door face first.

"Whatever you're doing, it's not working."

For a human, I thought I did a good impression of a pissed dragon growl.

I had made absolutely no headway by the time someone else came sauntering down the hallway.

"Hold, milady!"

"Virion." I faced him, smiling even though I was close to the point of trying to punch the door open. "We've gone over this."

"We have, indeed, but—" And there went the fingers to his face, Tamaki-style. _Actually, he WOULD fit right into the Ouran series._ "I cannot help but be in awe of your beauty, your grace! Why, even the moon pales in comparison to—"

"Thanks," I interrupted, "but I'm kind of busy. Could you maybe save this for the march?" I spun a hand in a "please hurry up" gesture, smile still in place.

Virion stopped. "Er... "busy," milady?"

" _Megan._ "

"Ahem, of course." A pause. "..."busy," Megan?"

"I'm having a riveting conversation with myself, and you're interrupting. I was just about to ask myself out for dinner, too. You're totally messing with my game."

"I... er, I apologize...?"

"Apology accepted." As if I was standing behind the counter at work trying to dismiss a persistent customer, I asked, "I hope you have a good time before the march!"

"I... yes, of course, I'll... leave you to... it...?"

The archer left far more flustered than usual, something I would snicker about. Later.

I glared at the door that had lost best friend privileges.

"Okay, that's it. Lon'qu, step back."

"What?"

"Like, waaaay back. The very back, if possible."

"...what are you doing?"

"I'm going to bust this door down. So find some cover or something."

"What? How?"

I rolled my head a bit, then stretched my arms for good measure. "Magic, duh. I don't have that kind of muscle." _Wind, obviously, which means a more advanced spell for the force I need to open it._

"That doesn't sound wise—"

"This door is stubborn as hell, and I'm not leaving you in there." _Gale spell, got it._ "I'll go without dinner for a few nights to pay for it or whatever, just— _fuck this door!_ "

 _Bang!_

Since I wasn't sure if he had taken my advice, I had aimed for the door's hinges. The fury of a tempest slammed into them, totally cracking the surrounding wood. After a few beats, I jumped with a squeak as a swift kick from inside the closet forced the door to finally come crashing down, echoing loudly within the stone walls.

" _Gogogo,_ " I hissed to Lon'qu, gesturing frantically. Witnesses hardly needed to see him climbing out of there, or they'd ruin my totally stellar job at hiding his blunder. He didn't need to be told a fourth time, darting out and managing to duck into another room before anyone came around the corner.

I found myself under Frederick's suspicious glare once more.

 _Oh, boy._

"I thought there was a kitten trapped inside?"

Totally nailed it. Boy, was I on a roll or what?

.

* * *

 _Apologies for the wait, again. Oblivion's computer issues aside, I had to rewrite a lot of the scenes in this chapter and the plot that follows. The tone needed adjusting._

 _Also I should **note** : Any and all extra characters I use in here that may or may not appear in my other fics (i.e. Yule, Jael and Zhent) should be considered separate entities entirely for this one in particualr. For example, if my SI ran into "Maygen," my super creatively named fan-Shepherd in my "Just wait ..." series, the SI wouldn't be like "oh, I know who you are." For all intents and purposes, this SI of mine isn't their creator. (I'm only using certain characters because, well, I put so much work into creating them, and I'm too lazy to make MORE just for this fic alone...)_

 _ **ALSO** , anything that doesn't sound like it lines up with canon, in this fic or Oblivion's, is pro'ly done on purpose. So any lore on manakete, magic, etc. that we write about may conflict with canon information. The excuse card I have for this is that the "game world" and the world we drop into might not be EXACTLY the same. Besides, FE:A effed with the franchise's canon anyway, so what more harm could we do?_

 _-Dragon_

 _P.S.: Did everyone get the nod to "Mambo Number Five"? I'm a goober and I like making silly references like that._


	7. Mini Episode, Rawr

_Oh, I totally forgot a part of my narrative! Silly me! Consider this a mini-episode, a scene missing from the beginning of chapter six, and a lulzy treat._

* * *

.

So, two days after the Risen scuffle where I nearly got skewered by Freddy Bear, and right after we entered Ylissean territory, there was an interesting incident at camp.

I had been getting better sleep, as in I _had_ been sleeping more. Sleeping on the road was more difficult than a proper bed, but I'd fallen asleep in stranger places and positions so that wasn't too large a hurdle to overcome. Still, I'm mildly picky when it comes to temperature, and morning could be rather chilly. So I woke up with cold feet, grumpy and lethargic.

I curled up under my blanket, dragging my coat over for good measure. _I don't wanna be up,_ I told whatever gods would listen. (Not that I particularly worshiped anything, in Home World or otherwise, but it was only polite to respect supernatural entities regardless of your own beliefs. Except for Grima. He's a dick.) _Can I go back to sleep now?_

" _ROOOOAAAAAAR!_ "

 _That_ was a direct answer if I ever heard one.

I leapt to my feet, knocked down my small tent, and ended up in a mess of canvas and ropes to flail around in. When I finally crawled out, I asked an equally confused Lissa, "What was _that?!_ "

"I-I don't know—" She was interrupted by her own gasp. " _Frederick!_ "

I spun—and had enough time for a "oh fuh" before I grabbed the princess and threw a panicked gale to send us both rocketing back and away from the galloping horse. I collided into what felt like a rock wall and, with the wind knocked out of me, collapsed on the ground. But at least Lissa was safe.

"W-whoa! Are you okay?"

"Sorry," Kellam offered, kneeling down with some effort to make sure I was still conscious. Which I was, unfortunately. Sleep sounded like a _really_ good idea right about now.

"Was that..." I took several deep breaths. "...Frederick being... dragged on a horse?"

His foot appeared to be caught in a stirrup, and it didn't look like it was comfortable to be dragged around camp.

"I-I've got it!" Sumia was stumbling after the man and his frightened mount. If anyone could calm it down, it was her. As long as she didn't lose sight of him when she tripped—

 _Thud._

—like that.

Stahl came around once Kellam and Lissa had managed to pull me to my feet again, explaining, "Zant's taking care of some... manakete things, I guess? No ambushes to worry about."

"That's good..."

"Is Frederick still...?"

No, we could see him in the distance, setting himself and his horse to rights as Sumia fussed over both. None of them looked injured, which was more than I could say for myself. _I'm gonna hate those bruises in the morning... and hey look what time it is OUCH._

A cool wash down my back made me yelp, before I sighed in appreciation of the relief it gave me as Lissa finished waving her new healing staff. "There! No more bruises!"

"Lissa," I sang, "you are a _goddess_ among mortals."

She giggled at my exaggeration. "No problem!"

"What was that just now," the knight beside us asked, reminding the princess (and okay, me too) that he was still there. "You just kind of flew out of the way."

"Huh? Oh, that." With a dismissive gesture, I admitted, "It was kind of a panicked "need to get out of the way, holy shit" moment. Used a wind spell to propel us out of the way. I'd say it worked out better than I expected." Barring the whole "slamming my back into a suit of armor" thing, but every good idea needs some tweaking.

"Just try not to break your back next time," Robin joked as he approached, startling a yip out of me. Grinning at the noise, he continued, "It's an interesting way to utilize offensive spells to gain mobility in the field. It could be very useful."

"Really?" Thinking of how the _Smash_ games showcased _Fire Emblem_ spells, I figured it was only a matter of time before he started elwind-ing all over the place. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on my part. I smiled and gave an overdramatic bow. "I am glad I could teach _you,_ O Wise One!"

"You weren't kidding about the silly thing," he commented dryly.

"Nope!"

Shaking his head, the tactician warned, "I'm serious, though. Don't be reckless. If Lissa has to patch you up after every experiment, we'd run out of healing staves."

"Would we?" Frowning, I told him, "I've been reading up on some simple healing spells, but I'm not sure I understand why the magic has to come from the staves. I mean, we just say an incantation and _boom,_ wind! So wouldn't it be simpler for the user to channel the energy from themselves, maybe using the staff as a focus, instead of needing to ration out the energy stored in it?"

"Well..."

"That wouldn't work," Lissa interrupted. "Well, it _would_ work, but you wouldn't feel that great afterwards. Channeling that much energy inside of you is pretty dangerous."

My brows furrowed. "Really? How can healing magic be dangerous...?"

"My teachers said it can be _really_ dangerous," the blonde assured. "I heard one guy actually tore up his insides trying to heal someone with his own life force!"

"Gross," I said with a grin.

"It's _definitely_ important to have a staff on hand. Putting energy into a staff, _then_ giving it to a person, is a lot safer." Making a face, she finished, "Otherwise, you might tear up your guts and need healing, yourself!"

The thought of healing magic actually being dangerous to the user was an interesting one. _That seems totally against its entire concept._ Although, now that I was thinking about it, perhaps that made sense. Surgery is a complicated thing, and magical surgery was likely more so; after all, you're placing energy into another living creature, restoring their vitality and mending broken flesh and bones. The process might have been too complicated to immediately go from Point A to Point B, meaning a middle man had to be used to prevent the user from ripping too much energy out of them in the heat of the moment, or from pumping their target with too much energy. Both sounded like terrible ways to go.

"...oh. _Oh!_ " I bounced in place, clapping my hands before pointing at Lissa and Robin. "That explains it! The—the nosferatu spell!"

Both of them gave me strange looks. After sharing these looks with each other, Robin ventured slowly, "What about it?"

"Nosferatu is pretty heal-magic-y, but it's considered dark magic." Using my hands to display the passage of energy between bodies, I pointed out, "It's moving energy from one living being to another, albeit in a very vampiric, leech-y way. It used to be considered light magic in older times, but now it's dark! Because it does just that: Ripping energy from one person to put into another! It's the wish of healing made real, but without any of the safety precautions!"

"...huh." The princess hummed thoughtfully. "I didn't think about it that way."

I excitedly spun in a circle, clapping some more as I cackled. "I can figure all of this magic stuff out," I told myself smugly, "just you wait! I'll be a sage-sorcerer-person before you know it! Ahaha..."

Okay, maybe there _was_ some good to come out of getting up early. Didn't mean I had to want to do it _every_ morning.

.

* * *

 _Any possible future mini-sodes will include other scenes that may have been forgotten in between drafts, or simply don't fit into the narrative smoothly no matter how much I want them to (but also wouldn't serve well as a separate fic)._

 _-Dragon_


	8. Eat a Snickers

_FIRE EMBLEM HEROES WOOHOO!_

 _...ahem. Sorry about that. Where was I...?_

* * *

.

The first few hours back on the road, all I could think about was Ricken's safety. I ran into the redhead just before we left, but I wasn't sure saying "stay safe" was doing him much good when he was still peeved with Chrom's dismissal of his talents. At least I didn't use "mother talk" with him like I did my little brothers. A little respect goes a long way; disrespect, even farther. I could only hope he followed my advice if he still decided to sneak after us.

 _He's still totally gonna sneak after us, who am I kidding?_

We marched for a distance before settling down for camp, as it had already been fairly dark when we'd left and it wouldn't do to turn an ankle before the rescue attempt. But everyone was determined to straighten out "the Mad King," and it was obvious that Lissa was impatient when _she_ suggested getting up early. _But if my best friend was in trouble,_ I admitted, _I would do the same._

I hoped Kail was all right, up in Ferox.

As a gamer, I hadn't thought much about it, but Emmeryn the praised Exalt of Ylisse was accompanying us to the border. Amongst all of the sweaty people was this incredibly pretty and super composed ruler who hardly seemed like anything could faze her: Walking for hours, sharing messy suppers, or the strange antics the Shepherds got into on a regular basis. That serene smile didn't even falter as Robin was subjected to yet another Lissa brand prank mid-march. Her presence in camp was a bit unorthodox, either soothing worries or multiplying them exponentially depending on the person. Three guesses which of those groups Frederick was in.

I wasn't exactly planning to avoid her, but I nearly had a heart attack when I came upon her perusing some of the tomes on the cart of weapons Chrom could not be convinced to leave without. _Gee-zus!_ Without stopping my stride, I spun right back around to see if Miriel wanted to chat anymore about magic instead. The last thing I needed was to accidentally call this woman "Mama" or something equally embarrassing for Zant to lord over my head for all eternity—or even worse, for him to tell Kail about it so _he_ could do it.

"Grr... _so ein Mist... ist sehr dumm... sheiße..._ "

"What are you muttering?"

I barely held back the startled yip. _I really need to work on not sounding like a skittish dog,_ I thought as I turned to face the great knight. "Oh, you know," I waved dismissively, "just one of the languages I know." _Although "know" is a bit of a stretch, I just know phrases and some swears._

Frederick wasn't so easy to wave off. His Exalt's added presence was making him _really_ protective-even more so than normal. "It sounded more like a curse."

I snorted. "Not _that_ kind of curse."

Narrowing his eyes, he carried on with a silent promise to keep a close eye on me. As if he wasn't already convinced I was trying to kill them all in their sleep. Miriel commented on my mood (or my "aggravated fettle" as she called it) and I neatly sidestepped the issue with a drop of the word "genetics." She happily obliged, pulling out her mother's tome for me to eye hungrily. Phenomes and genomes had never been so eagerly discussed as they were then. (The implications of being genetically predisposed for casting spells was pretty neat.)

That first night, uncomfortable dreams and lingering frustration kept me from getting a restful sleep. I ended up pacing around the perimeter of the tents until dawn, earning more than a few odd looks by the early birds and another dose of suspicious staring from Frederick the Wary.

"You all right?" Kellam asked as we soldiered on. I managed, again, to avoid yipping.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You were muttering to yourself about "shy-zas" or something."

" _Sheiße,_ " I corrected, then waved away his first concern. "I talk to myself all the time. It's kind of my thing as a weird-o. Don't worry about it!"

Lissa came up then, making a face. "Are you talking to yourself again?"

"Not anymore, I'm talking to Kellam!"

She gasped when I patted the man's arm, as if he had just materialized out of thin air. "Whoa! How do you find him so easily?!"

"Er, she doesn't—"

"Magic powers," I teased, wriggling fingers at her mysteriously. The knight sighed. I giggled.

Lissa made a face and let the matter slide. Instead, she grabbed my arm as she whispered, "Hey, come with me real quick!"

"Uh, why— _ack._ "

And there she went, dragging me off. I waved farewell in Kellam's general direction, knowing he would get lost and forgotten if he didn't bump into anyone (and probably even then). That poor guy.

"Okay, Lissa, why are you trying to dislocate my arm?"

"Just trust me!"

I wasn't so sure I could. She _had_ pulled a trick on Robin recently.

(Those poor slugs. At least she was switching things up.)

Speaking of the tactician, that's where she was taking me; the man was chatting with Frederick near the front of our procession. He seemed amused to see me at the mercy of one of the few people shorter than me, but was still reasonably wary at the blonde's approach. "Lissa... Megan. What brings you two running up here?"

"Megan wants to help with chores!"

"Uh." This definitely hadn't been cleared with me first. But what the hell, I was always willing to help out. "Yeah."

Robin's eyebrow rose at my flat response. "Yeah?"

"Yep," I said with more gusto, figuring I couldn't let the princess down. _I don't know what she's up to, but it can't be too bad if she's trying to increase productivity._ "Anything ya need?"

"Hm." The tactician hummed again. "Anything you can think of, Frederick?"

The great knight was so much taller on horseback, and the way he eyed me reminded me of a cadet officer during my first year of JROTC. It wasn't a good reminder. That cadet had hated me, too.

"She's eager to help," Robin added cheerfully.

"...very well. I'm sure I'll manage to find something for you to do." He declared, "I will collect you a candlemark before dawn."

Lissa made a noise. " _That_ early?!"

There was a foreboding feeling creeping in that spiked sharply when the man smiled. Although it was probably warm to her, it became flinty once it turned in my direction.

" "The early bird gets the worm," my lady."

 _Oh, boy._ "Okay, see you then," I chirped instead, waving in farewell, and managed to be the one dragging someone away from conversation this time. The great knight narrowed his eyes but couldn't find a good enough reason to accuse me of scheming. I fell back with the princess to about midway through the procession, where Vaike was disrupting a perturbed Miriel with talk about his exercising.

"What was that about," I muttered.

Equally hushed, she claimed, "I'm trying to help you!"

"Help me...?"

"With Frederick!"

I furrowed my brows. What the hell was she talking about?

"He likes when people work real hard! So maybe if you help around a bit, he'll trust you more!"

"Oh." It was a good start, at least. I eyed her. "I'm not doing _your_ chores or something, am I?"

"What? Psh!" When my staring persisted, her cheeks puffed out. _Gods, she's too adorable._ "Really!"

I laughed, poking the cute face. "Okay, okay, I believe you. And thanks for the help, I guess?" Head tilting, I pointed out, "But weren't you going to try to get me to goof off, Lissa-style?"

She waved the question off, telling me, "Oh, _that_ comes later." It was almost as foreboding as the great knight's smile.

"Greaaaat."

"Hey! That'll be fun, I _promise!_ "

"Whatever you say, ma'am."

She slapped my arm, and I feigned major injury until we received a cold look from the already annoyed mage beside us. I smiled and waved sheepishly. Miriel's "you're lucky I have a wyvern-load of patience" face reminded me very much of Professor McGonagall. She returned to telling Vaike exactly how the axis of his swings would translate into arithmetic.

I did not envy him one bit. I hate math.

* * *

In the end, I decided against sleeping entirely, to avoid any rude awakenings Frederick may have had planned for me. Before most of the camp was asleep, I found Kellam to chat some more, ate my ration of bread and cheese, and told Zant to look for my body in the morning. That amused him.

"And what would you like done with it, hm? Donation to science, perhaps? A proper burial? I warn you, I only do cremations."

"Oh, ha, ha, very funny." A beat. "Definitely donation for science."

Once the quiet settled over the tents and I began getting restless, I took a tome and towel and marched out to the stream nearby. I stank, and there was no time like the present to practice using wind magic for harmless things like drying off. There wasn't much I could do with my hair, at least without shampoo anyway. I wondered if that was restricted to nobles.

Hair wrapped and coat hanging on a branch, I flipped through some pages to see what I could do about the tumble I had taken into the stream... in my clothes. _I swear, that rock jumped in front of my foot on purpose._ And short of sticking myself into a fire—tempting, but probably not a good idea—I needed to find a faster, arcane drying method or I'd be freezing to death while waiting for the water to evaporate.

"Okay, let's see... these runes read for... a gentle, warm breeze."

I squinted.

I was understandably a little suspicious of innocuous terms in spell tomes.

"...I'll try it on the towel first."

It took a bit of finagling, but eventually I managed to create a constant flow of magically warmed air to reduce the amount of time I had to wait for this shit to dry. _Magic user, one. Universe... eh, probably more than that, but hey! I'm catching up!_

I used the hairbrush that Miriel had generously procured... in exchange for a debate on the ramifications on nature versus nurture in studying the arcane. I was an example against nurture, of someone raised away from magic and brought into it at a later date. Despite how bogged down by details the woman could be, she thought of the most interesting conversational topics. I jury-rigged an arcane blow dryer as I began working on my dark tresses. _Ugh. My hair NEVER tangles. Is this payment for giving me cool magic powers?_ Maybe I could cut it all off and have a pixie cut. I mean, Sully rocked the short hair, and it was a hell of a lot easier to deal with.

I was mulling over the pros and cons of taking an axe to my head (or preferably something safer) when a voice called sharply, "What are you doing?"

" _Eek!_ " I yanked the brush violently and started to swear. _It's stuck. Wonderful._ Glaring at Frederick two meters away, I cried, "Did you _really_ have to sneak up on me? And how do you even do that in all of that armor?!"

He stared silently, pissing me off further. Extracting the hairbrush more carefully this time around, I set it down and crossed arms over my chest. " _Ahem._ Hello, sir. How can I help you?" I was going to try to be polite, but my tone hinted that I would much rather be left alone at the moment.

He stared some more. Gave a short, clinical once-over. Then he barked, "Why are you prancing about in your smallclothes?"

"What? I'm not in my—"

I looked down, raising my arms to examine the attire he was accusing.

 _...oh. Right._ Dark mages didn't wear a lot of layers.

"...uh. It's more like a swimming suit with body-sized pantyhose." And there was that confused suspicion again. "It's normal for dark mages." _He_ was the one making this weird. (I ignored how I had freaked out over wearing it, at first.)

He narrowed his eyes. "So you admit you're a Plegian dark mage."

"I—" I groaned, rubbing my forehead as I wrapped the towel around myself. "I'm technically a _dark mage,_ yes, because I use dark magic to protect people. If I wasn't able to do that, I'd just be a mage. But I'm not from Plegia. Regardless of that, you probably shouldn't insult an entire culture by suggesting they walk around in their underwear."

"You're not walking around in Plegian wear," he began.

"Of course not." I waved at the nearby branch. "I'm waiting for my clothes to dry."

"...those are your only clothes."

"Yeah. My kidnappers weren't generous enough to gift me a swanky new wardrobe before they ate steel." Sue me for being snarky.

Frederick pinched the bridge of his nose. "And you didn't procure more suitable clothing in Ylisstol because...?"

I examined the stars for a sign that I shouldn't hex him. There were none, but my conscience won out anyway. "Do I look like I have money to you?"

He took a deep breath. Exhaled. Then inhaled again.

"Don't move," he ordered, spinning on his heel and marching off. I made a face at his back. _Acting like I'm some delinquent... or a spy. The nerve of some overprotective knights in charge of royalty._

I'll admit to a bit of childishness when I purposefully moved to sit by the riverbank, picking up my tome. I fiddled with incantations, trying to figure out what affected the wind spells' temperatures, until the crunch of footsteps signaled his return. He definitely noticed my petty behavior, and wasn't amused.

Climbing to my feet with a grunt, I was presented with neatly folded fabric.

"It would behoove you to consider the Exalted family's reputations, with your questionable attire."

"Point taken." Most of the irritation had left me by this point; it rarely lingered, especially as I recognized, as was supported by his reasoning, that the man only worried for his charges. Examining this tan tunic, I pointed out, "But this won't exactly give me free-range of movement if we run into any trouble."

He stood a bit straighter. "It is the Exalt's hope that we will find no such thing."

I gave him a look. Knowing the answer even before I opened my mouth, I asked seriously, "Do you really think it'll be that simple?" His stern frown deepened.

"It is my job to prepare for the possibility of a fight."

"And dealing with suspicious characters," I filled in for him, shrugging helplessly at his shrewd stare. "Hey, I get it. I'm pretty much suspicious of any guy who compliments my appearance. Being kidnapped or taken advantage of is a real problem for tiny people like me."

I paused.

"...oh, shit. It really _is_ a problem for me."

It was a half-joke I used to say often, but now it was a very real thing. _I'm here, for starters. And all of those Feroxi just picked me up like a half-empty sack of styrofoam cups._

As the slowly dawning horror of my ineffectiveness at preventing someone from just throwing me over their shoulder caveman-style crept into my features... the great knight seemed to come to his own decision. Clearing his throat to get my attention, he told my resigned expression, "As you don't seem to be doing anything important, you can begin assisting around our camp."

 _Uh, unwinding is definitely something "important."_ But I wasn't going to argue with the big guy with a big sword sheathed at his side. "What do you need?"

"Organizing the princess' tomes should be a simple enough start," he answered, a "for you" silently tacked onto the end.

I tried not to glare. _It's like I'm back at work, dealing with irritable customers._ "Alphabetical by author, title, or subject?"

"Lady Lissa finds it easier when it's done by subject, then by title."

"'kay. Where to, sir?"

Waiting until I had shrugged on the tunic and my (mostly) dry coat, Frederick led me to a campfire where the tomes were waiting, at a safe distance. Claiming one log, I watched as he took another and picked up... were those knitting needles?

I blinked. _Riiiight. I forgot about that._ So I turned to the chore assigned to me, peering at every title and flipping through some to figure out their categories. The silence was only broken by crinkling parchment, crackling flames, and clicking needles.

...and some of my muttering.

"Wow... Lissa's basically training to be a magic surgeon..." Flip. Flip. "Oh, gross. Cool."

There were also tomes on maintaining staves, channeling their energy, and various minor healing spells. I hadn't thought about it much before, but Lissa certainly had taken a complicated role in the Shepherds. And thanks to the brief summary of healing magic she'd given me, I now realized it wasn't as simple as waving a staff and saying "be healed" to the target. Was she squeamish at all? I hoped not, because with a war approaching she was going to be seeing a lot of torn flesh needing mending. (But I wasn't going to think about that. _No, focus on the magic, not its purpose._ The subject was actually pretty fascinating.)

"I hope she remembers that alphabetizing ignores "the" in book titles... and "of" and..."

I couldn't help skimming some pages when I saw mention of how magic channeled through living things. There was a passage on spells having different effects depending on the target's biology, and I got lost in the possibilities.

"If I could figure out healing magic, then maybe I could heal animals... like horses... wyverns... griffins... Do manakete count more as human or beast, biology-wise? Like, if Zant's in dragon form, does healing work differently than if he's in his manakete form? I should ask him... I don't want to hurt him though. Maybe I could ask Lissa to help. She knows a lot more about this stuff than I do. Oh, I wonder if plants can also be healed, like if I'm being a terrible gardener then can I fix them up? Or if I'm bleeding out and need something to nosferatu, could a sturdy tree be like a magic-life-juice transfusion or—"

The book was suddenly snatched from my hands. I yipped, then looked sheepishly at the annoyed great knight. "...were you saying something?"

"Get back to work."

"Sorry, sorry." I accepted the book and put it into the medical knowledge pile. "I saw something interesting and... got sidetracked."

"So I heard."

I cleared my throat and went back to work. But since he had spoken up...

"Do you know anything about healing magic?"

The clicking of knitting needles stopped. I glanced over, wondering what thoughts hid behind his stern expression.

"I wasn't trained in light magic," he told me. "Magic of any kind is not my strong suit."

"Hey, everyone has their talents. You're better at sword-swinging than I am." _Pretty sure that greatsword of yours would break my spine if I tried to lift it._ "But do you know, like, how it's done?"

"With staves."

I rolled my eyes. _Okay, I know you don't like me, but work with me here._ "I know _that_. I meant how one gets the energy into the staff in the first place. I've seen how to use and maintain them, but nothing on their creation. Is it anything like how weapons can be magically charged?"

It was a little strange how threatening Frederick could look while holding a half-finished yellow scarf, but then again knitting needles were a weapon no one would expect. "What interest do you have in this?"

Could you blame me for looking at him like he was the crazy one? "Uh. Magic?" His stare didn't abate. "No, seriously, magic. Magic is _really_ cool. And I like learning about stuff. I'm a huge nerd." If he knew what that word meant, he didn't react to it.

"I find it hard to believe that you've taken a sudden interest in milady's company because of her knowledge on healing magic."

Now I was _definitely_ making a weird face at him. "What? No, that's not it at all. I mean, sure, she knows her stuff, but that's just kind of a bonus. She's an awesome person. Very sweet, likes to play jokes, looking out for other people... it's kind of like the little sister I never had." Boy, I hadn't thought about _that_ old wish of mine for ages. Having little brothers and an older stepsister had made me wonder what having the reverse would be like. It had sounded cool in the fiction I absorbed. "Besides, I'd like to be able to heal my own injuries." I gestured at the shoulder of my coat, where it had been torn by a Risen's axe.

This reminder deepened his frown. He leaned over to grab a small tin.

"Take that off."

"What?" He was pulling out thread and a sewing needle. " _Oh._ Oh, no, wait, that's okay, I can sew that up. Let me."

He arched a brow as I removed the coat. "You sew."

"I did it a lot as a kid." Thinking, I added with a grin, "And my mother's not around to fix all my clothes."

Still doubting, he offered the tin regardless, with a pointed, "I expect your handiwork won't look like a child's." He returned to his knitting, but it was very clear that his attention was still on me.

 _Even if it did, it would still probably look better than Lissa's._ Aw, that was mean. _I'm a terrible person, I know._ It took a bit of fiddling about to thread the needle, and then to pull that through the fabric and begin mending it. It wasn't going to look pretty, but as long as it was closed, who cared? _Other than Mr. Knight-Butler._

"It was a priest who provided her staves."

I glanced up, pricking my finger in my distraction.

" _Ouch._ What?" It took a moment to process Frederick's words, as I hadn't expected him to speak up at all. My response left him wanting, as was evident by that stern frown of his. He repeated himself, although by then I'd registered what he'd said. "...oh." _I guess that makes some sense, with all of the priests and clerics wielding healing magic._

He arched a brow as if to ask "is that it," clearly expecting something more from me. It reminded me of Miriel's silent stare whenever I trailed off, giving off a prickly feeling but in a calm way. Like a totally relaxed cactus. _Well, if he wants me to geek out on magical theory, then—_

I sat up a little straighter, setting my work down on my lap to avoid further thumb-stabbing. "Does that mean it's holy magic? As in, related to gods?"

"In a way, yes," he answered neutrally, gaze back on the needles. "I would assume the priest asks for Naga's blessing on the staves."

"Is that true of all magical items, weapons or staves? Do you need to pray to the gods?"

"No. There is a different process entirely for enchanting a sword, likely using the mage's own arcane knowledge and power." A brief pause, and the knitting needles slowed. "Perhaps one could use that process to enchant a healing staff, although I can't imagine why."

"Not everything has to be solved by "gods," " I countered, earning his narrowed gaze. "Humanity can fix some of its own problems."

"I imagine that way of thinking is what prompted the Plegians to kidnap Lady Maribelle."

Frowning, I argued, "That's not solving problems, that's _causing_ problems. And that's just the radicals, it wasn't the entirety of Plegia that took her." His disbelieving, suspicious glare was starting to tick me off, but I kept my tone civil. "You know, wars happen because people lump others together out of ignorance and persecute them for being different."

The needles stopped as the weight of his stare intensified. "Are you defending men who steal, pillage and kidnap Ylisseans in broad daylight?"

"No, I'm defending the people who don't do that and are unfortunate enough to live in the same country as those assholes. You can't choose where you're born." I waved an arm. "Just because all toads are frogs does not mean all frogs are toads. Would you say that an entire town is evil just because some bandits lived in it?"

"Innocent people wouldn't simply let those bandits do as they please!"

I gave a quiet sigh, rubbing my forehead. "Never mind." _Trust the knight dedicated to House Ylisse to be totally pigheaded about the plights of other countries._ I wasn't a gullible idiot, but it was stereotypes like these that ruined lives. Not everyone could be the brave Main Character and Company. I would've settled for Frederick admitting that Plegians weren't all evil. _I guess that was too much to ask for._ I focused on my sewing again, swearing under my breath with another nick of the needle.

"Hmph." Frederick went back to his knitting, and the area around the campfire was quiet.

 _Sorry, Lissa, but it doesn't look like I'm getting past Z-Rank with this guy anytime soon._

* * *

Once my coat and Lissa's tomes were taken care of, I was instructed to tidy up around camp before everyone awoke: Organizing, cleaning, packing and taking inventory. Frederick did this all of the time, so I didn't really mind helping out. _As long as he stops giving me those looks._

Vaike had misplaced his axe again, so I took it from the ashes of the campfire and quietly placed it beside his patchwork tent. I nearly tripped over Sumia's books on the way, so I stacked _those_ tomes alphabetically too and scooted the pile out of the danger zone for when she awoke. Her steed's saddle was missing; tracking that down was an adventure that ended with me monkey-climbing on top of a wagon. Don't ask me how it got there. The Shepherds are a strange bunch.

There was a chest of weapons that needed to be put on said wagon for tomorrow's march, but the moment I tried to heave it up the lid popped open and several sharp, pointy objects of death tried to slam into my face.

" _OH SHIT!_ "

Stahl found me on the dirt surrounded by blades and axes. "Whoa, are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Squinting at him, I inquired, "Why the hell are _you_ up?"

"Guard duty." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I'm... still kind of in trouble for that ambush last week."

I frowned, retrieving the chest's spilled contents. "What? Why're _you_ in trouble for it?"

"I... was supposed to be one of the sentries, that night." More neck rubbing. Wow, my life was literally an anime. "But Vaike forgot to get me before he passed out, and then... well, you know what happened. We both got the lecture of our lives, and _then_ some." He was looking guiltily at the now-mended tear in my coat.

"Oh." That explained why Vaike had been at the back of our little marching squad with Miriel instead of harassing Chrom. _Frederick isn't someone you want to piss off._ "Well, we all make mistakes. Happens to the best of us. But I'm glad you're looking out for me."

"Of course." He watched me pick up the chest... or try to. Chuckling, he offered, "Need a hand?"

"N-no, I... totally got this... _hurk..._ " Going for sarcasm while doing heavy-lifting was a bad idea. My back was screaming at me. Time to set it down gently and— " _Ow, fffffor the love of everything good in this world, that was my foot!_ "

"Uh, here, let me..."

With Stahl's assistance, the chest was placed and properly locked to avoid further mishaps. I lifted my palm, and after a pause he grinned and accepted the high-five.

"We're awesome," I wheezed.

"Yeah, we sure are," he agreed, good-humored. "We showed that weapons chest who's boss."

My noodle arms needed a breather, and my foot was throbbing. Leaning against the wagon, I prodded, "Shouldn't you be guarding? Not that I don't enjoy a friendly chat, but I don't want you to get in trouble."

"Yeah, I'm going. Just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Aw, you're such a sweetheart." I returned his wave of farewell, snorting. _Guess it's a good thing I wasn't skewered. THAT would've been awkward for him to walk in on. "Oh look at that, I've been impaled."_ Ashamed of my stupid reference to a character I didn't even like, I went back to work. At least that encounter had brightened my mood a smidge. (And ended without me breaking my back.)

One very important thing for a marching military force was staying hydrated, and someone had knocked over one of the buckets before the canteens could be refilled. I had a sneaking suspicion that it might have been the clumsy-footed Sumia, as earlier she was the one to quietly ask me to help her with that. I had waved her off and told her to go back to caring for her pegasus, to which she (after some convincing) thanked me profusely and spun around only to trip again. The poor girl might've been more accident-prone than my roommate, and _that_ woman could manage to get dizzy and fall over when she was standing still.

Now, I was looking at the buckets and debating on how to handle it. I was a big fan of "I'll do this all in one trip or die trying," but I knew the aforementioned noodle arms of mine wouldn't be able to handle more than one full bucket of water. _Maybe I SHOULD get in on Frederick's Fanatical Fitness Hour, scary as it sounds._

"Oh, well." There was no time like the present. Grabbing three of them, I was determined to at least try, and if I wasn't successful I could leave the remainder at the riverbank and go back. It wasn't like I was in a hurry.

I went around one corner and managed to run into something. I squeaked and dropped one of the buckets on my already injured foot. Loud swears were only outdone by the sound of someone choking. I glanced up from massaging my foot to see Lon'qu backpedaling faster than a cat from a pet carrier.

"W-w-where did you come from?!"

I glanced around the quiet camp. "Uh. Places?" I wasn't exactly trying to be sneaky. "Sorry about that. You okay?"

He bared his teeth. "I-I'm fine." Which was totally believable, now that he was standing about twenty paces away. He eyed me warily as I moved to retrieve the wayward bucket. "What are you doing?"

"Water." I shook it in display before slinging it on my arm again.

"...you can't possibly carry all three of those, once filled."

"Nope," I agreed brightly, "but I can still try!"

The myrmidon frowned. I waited for him to move so I wouldn't have to get too close to him as I passed. Then he sighed and, through gritted teeth, commanded, "Give me those."

"Huh?" I glanced at my arms, then at him. "Oh. Well, I'd love help of course, but I don't want to make you uncomfortable or—"

"Woman. Give me the buckets."

"Geez, so bossy." Shaking my head with a smile, I told him to catch like I had back when we were traveling to Arena Ferox. The bucket wasn't as aerodynamic, but I managed not to peg him in the face.

He caught it easily, then waited. I blinked, and he muttered, "Toss me another."

"What, don't think I can carry two?" He continued staring. _...he's probably right._ I rolled my eyes and tossed another one. "You could've let me _try,_ " I grumbled playfully.

"Hmph." He spun around and set off immediately.

I followed, at a distance, but couldn't help asking once we were in the woods, "Why are you still awake? I'm a night owl so, y'know, but..."

"Guard duty."

"Oh. Did Stahl relieve you?"

"Yes."

"Ah."

 _Would you look at that,_ I mused, grinning to myself. _I had a civil conversation with the gynophobe. I have to practically shout at him, but still. Progress!_

"Thanks for your help."

"This makes us even."

Eyebrows rising, I parroted, "Even?"

"...for Ylisstol."

"...oh—" I snorted, then waved away the glare Lon'qu sent over his shoulder. "No, sorry, was thinking of a joke." _Coming out of closets, heehee. I really need to share that one with Kail._ "And no prob. I bet you'd help _me_ out if I was in a bind."

"...right." My, his confidence was so reassuring.

"It'd suck if the best of Ferox's best was left behind because he was locked in a closet. I was doing everyone else a favor, really. The Shepherds could use your awesome skills."

He huffed but didn't continue the conversation. The stream was right ahead, anyway. I picked a spot far from his and filled my bucket, taking great care not to fall in again. Waiting for clothes to dry was a pain, even with magic. I started on the way back just before he did, and I shook my head as he let me get a decent headstart. _You know, I've wanted to be scary before, but it's a little ridiculous when I'm not TRYING to be._ Understanding his phobia and _dealing_ with it, as I said, were two totally different things.

Glancing up, I spied the night sky between the branches and nearly stopped in my tracks. There were _so many_ stars up there. Even in the less developed parts of America I'd been to, I didn't think I had seen so many lights in the sky, even with the addition of manmade aircraft. It was like someone had spilled a bag of diamonds up there. It was very distracting, and its beauty nearly cost me the water bucket as I stumbled over a root. I managed to keep it from sloshing over, and I snuck quick glances the rest of the way to camp. _I can't believe I've been so busy that I didn't even notice! What I'd give for a telescope, or a camera._

I set my bucket down near the edge of camp and told Lon'qu to do the same, since I was going to grab the canteens for filling. "Thanks again for the help. G'night, Lon'qu!"

It was only while I was studying a thunder tome sometime after he left that I thumped my thigh with a muttered curse.

 _I should've refused his help and bartered for tea instead! Gods dammit._ Guess I would have to give in and ask Lissa for some of hers. She did have some, right? With all the tea she drank with Maribelle... I really hoped it wasn't the troubadour I needed for my tea fix. I could've pestered Robin, but he was busy with the whole tactician business, so I was reluctant to get in his way. Maybe Virion had some? He was fancy enough to carry tea around, right?

 _Okay, focus, Megan, the books aren't going to read themselves..._

* * *

"Good morning!"

"Good morning," I mumbled to Lissa, then stifled a yawn. I hadn't slept at all before Frederick returned in the morning for (you guessed it) more chores.

"Whoa. You look terrible." Concern soured her expression as she murmured, "Frederick didn't work you too hard, did he?"

"What? Nahhh." I dismissed the worry with a faint wave. "I'm good. How 'bout you, missie? Get some good sleep?"

"I guess." She eyed me some more to determine how truthful I was, but I smiled until she let it go. "Sooo... did he warm up to you any?"

"Uh..." Thinking back to our argument the night before, I decided I didn't want her to get even more worried and gave another sort-of-fib. "Kinda? I mean, we sat around a campfire doing chores instead of singing "kum ba yah," but he didn't threaten to kill me, so I'd say that's progress?"

"That's not as good as I _hoped,_ but it's better than nothing. Ooh!" Grabbing my arm, Lissa gushed, "That means that today, you can goof off!"

"How do you goof off while marching?"

"We... we, uh, look at the clouds?"

I glanced up. "They _are_ pretty nice clouds."

This didn't appease her, as she realized that her plan was a little flawed since we were on the move, and for an important rescue to boot. Sighing, she relented to put off Operation Do Absolutely Nothing for a later date. She _promised_ it would be soon. I humored her, for now. (I wasn't against a lazy day—far from it—but I had a feeling that, even if I wasn't actually stuck here, I wouldn't have a lot of free time until I got back home.)

As we marched, I glanced up and commented to Kellam, "The sky is so blue here." The princess had gone on ahead to talk with her brother.

"I guess so?" He sounded confused. "You mean, it isn't blue in America?"

"No, it is. Wait... Maybe it isn't as blue?" I blinked, staring heavenwards again. "I... guess I never really thought about it. I only notice when there's lots of clouds. I like clouds."

"Well... clouds are nice."

"Yep." I patted his arm. "Good talk."

Miriel approached later for a conversation on the possibility of an arcane presence unlocking an individual's own capabilities with magic when they'd shown no previous signs, but I wasn't able to keep up with her like I usually did. My mind could, but my mouth wasn't quite up to the task of conveying that information to my audience. Plus I was slurring a smidge. I had to wave off Kellam's suggestion to take a nap in one of the wagons. I couldn't rest while everyone else was marching! That just wouldn't be fair. He didn't agree, but didn't press the issue.

I was interrupted mid-yawn by a dramatic "hold, milady," preceding Virion's flowery flattery and flourishing. ( _Sweet, alliteration._ ) He gave a little pose, for crying out loud, as he inquired, "Sweet Megan, are you well? Were you kept from blessed sleep by thoughts of gallant Virion?"

"Shaddup." Sleepiness did not engender friendliness. I pushed at his shoulder, or tried to, because I was too tired to put much effort into it. Another yawn ambushed me, garbling a curse. "Argh, why do I always forget how pulling all-nighters suck?"

"Were you occupied with your, erm, dinner for one?"

"Chores."

"Ah. But you simply had to ask, and as a gentleman I wouldn't have been able to ignore the distress of such a lovely—"

I gave another weak shove. "And then you wouldn't have shut up about "gallant this" and "noble that." Anyway, you were probably already sleeping."

"Yes, well..." Virion cleared his throat. "Milady... I mean, Megan... in all seriousness, perhaps you should rest?"

"Not you too," I groaned.

"I would hope I'm not the only one concerned about such a lovely maiden! And we are marching to rescue a lady fair from a grim fate! It wouldn't do to be unprepared for whatever awaits us at the border."

"I'll sleep later. Tonight. Probably."

He arched one elegant eyebrow, in the archest of arches.

I groaned again. "Don't you have maidens to flirt with? Go find Miriel, or Lissa, or... or Sumia, the gods know that girl could use some love."

"Very well, I can see you're as stubborn as you are beautiful." He evaded another shove with that infuriating smile, and I hoped my glare could properly convey my aggravation. "But if I have to carry you to your cot, milady, I will be happy to do so to ensure your good health!"

"Bugger off!"

"Yeah, you tell 'im," Sully butted in, and leaned down from her horse to accept my high-five. Then she gave me a weird look. "You look like crap."

" _Agh._ " I threw my hands up and picked up my pace, which prompted Lon'qu to put several feet between us as I passed him on my way to the front. "I swear, mother hens _everywhere._ "

"Hens?" piped up Stahl, looking ravenous as always.

"No, Stahl, no hens."

"Oh." He sounded disappointed, as if he expected me to have chicken legs in my pockets. Then, of course, he commented, "You look exhausted."

" _Nooo,_ " I muttered, sarcasm rather biting. "What tipped ya off?"

"Well, you aren't smiling, for one. You're pretty much always smiling."

I snorted. _No shit, Sherlock, it's practically my default expression._ "I should have a Snickers. I'm not me when I'm hungry."

"...er, what?"

"Ugh. Never mind." I probably should've saved that one for Zant.

* * *

Speaking of Zant...

We hit the town of Themis before nightfall. Under the Exalt's orders, we stuck around to offer what help we could for the citizens. Many Shepherds and soldiers assisted in moving heavy debris and repairing houses, to which I joined in.

A broken support beam was suddenly yanked away. I hissed and examined my new splinters as Vaike crowed, "Don't worry! Teach got this!"

"Didn't your mother tell you not to just take things out of people's hands?"

"Huh?" He shouldered the log, nearly clobbering a poor sod behind him. "Well, yeah."

"Ugh." Shaking my head, I muttered about obtuse people who meant well with their annoying habits, and picked up a much smaller piece of wood. That was taken too. " _Ugh,_ Vaike, I'm not _that_ pathetic!"

"Sorry, was busy flexin' my muscles! What was that?"

I threw my hands up and went to a different location, only to have no less than five people tell me to take it easy for the night. Lissa tried to drag me away, which I avoided by telling her to go check on her brother and sister; Stahl kept grabbing everything like Vaike had and said I should take a breather; Virion swooped in all gallant-like to annoy me with his chivalry speeches, which Sully quickly interrupted to repeat that I looked like crap; and Robin finally swung by and said, as the person in charge of tactics on and off the battlefield, that it would be a good idea if I went to bed early. The Shepherds really _were_ a bunch of mother hens. Although I appreciated it immensely, I was irritated that they weren't letting me make bad decisions and pull as much weight as my noodle arms could handle.

Zant found me standing off to the side of the others, totally-not-but-okay-maybe-kind-of-sulking.

"Well, it's not chocolate, but you'll love it all the same." He followed this by offering a steaming mug, which I carefully accepted with sleeves acting as oven mitts. It was a bit hot, so I gave it a little time before I risked burning my tongue.

"Is it tea? I _love_ tea."

Actually, at this point I _needed_ tea before I went from grumpy to actually mean. I didn't need to make anyone hate me at this stage of the game, not when I still wasn't sure how or if I'd get home.

He nodded. "I made it myself. Juniper berry and ginseng tea, just the thing for that all-nighter aftermath."

I inhaled the aroma greedily. _Oh yeah, that's the stuff._ Giving a smile that I hoped displayed my sincere thanks, I took a delicate sip and ignored the heat to rejoice in the delicious flavor of leaf-water. "Ahhh. Tea, glorious teaaaaa..." _That_ deserved another glorious inhale. _In with the good... out with the bad. Ah. That's better._ Opening my eyes, I let myself relax a smidge.

...all right, break time over. Meeting Zant's gaze, I asked more seriously, "Okay. So. What's our gameplan, Stan?"

"Actually, I came by to check on you." His expression looked rather tight. "You know what's coming up. Are you going to be alright?"

My first reaction was to smile, to try waving off his concern. I'd had enough of that from everyone else today. _I don't need an army worrying over me like I'm some little kid._ But soon enough I let it fade away as the darker thoughts settled in. "Well, I can't lie to you, Mr. Toucan Sam," I sighed, "so... I won't. I don't want to get into another fight." A deeper sigh. "But we both know that's not really avoidable at this point."

"My biggest concern about this," he added quietly, "is that this time it isn't Risen we're going to be fighting. I have draconic psychology to buffer that, but I'm worried about you here."

 _Worried that I'll freak out over people dying right in front of me? Been there, done that, got the collectible t-shirt and coffee mug._

Grimacing, I kept my focus on the present as I pointed out, "Exactly _why_ I don't want to do this." _Not that I feel bad for people like Ugly and his gang, but... I definitely prefer defending myself from walking corpses._ "But, we have to save Maribelle, and keep a certain aspiring Shepherd out of trouble." I hoped Ricken was all right. How was he getting to the border, anyway? He wasn't traveling alone, was he? Should I have tried stopping him after all? I rubbed my temple, adding a third sigh to the bunch, and took more sips from my happy drink.

The manakete stood tall, which was expected and mildly annoying, but it was the piercing look he gave me that caught my attention. It wasn't the expression of someone about to tell a bad joke.

"Then answer me this. If it ever comes down to you or them out there, will you be able to take a life?"

And that was the million dollar question.

I didn't respond immediately, because I wanted him to understand that I was taking this very seriously.

I was taking it _all_ very seriously. There might be cool spells and awesome people here in Awakening World, but there were plenty of downsides to this magical realm. The longer we stayed here, the more likely we were going to be pulled into war. And we were both going to be smack dab in the middle of the conflict if we kept traveling with the Shepherds. But really, what else _could_ we do? Sit around in some little town like Themis, waiting for the story to unfold and hoping something will come along that could get us out of here? That might've been exactly what the Zant and Megan of the original timeline had done, and clearly that hadn't worked out as Lucina knew us both as her honorary aunt and uncle. No, as Sarah McLachlan said, nothing comes from wondering—and digging in our heels and hoping time might be kinder if we wait it out won't get us any closer to home. Because we knew what could happen in the future.

I didn't want to kill anyone. But I had promised I would live, and I planned on keeping it.

"...It won't be easy to deal with the psychological aftermath," I admitted quietly, "but I'm not just going to lie down and die. If someone's coming at me with an axe..." My shoulders sagged with the weight of my next words. "Then I'll have to stop them."

Apparently, it was what Zant needed to hear. "That's all that matters. Just whatever you do, don't freeze."

 _Yeah. I won't always have Lucina or Lon'qu around to save the day._

Turning to leave me to my thoughts, the manakete lingered to add, "As for any psychological consequences, you can always come to me. I may not be able to... _feel_ these kinds of things anymore, but that doesn't mean I can't understand them."

 _I REALLY need to ask him more about that. For academic purposes... and as a friend._ I gave him a smile that felt more like a frown. "Right. And don't you die on me either, Zant. Abuse your OP dragon powers to the max."

"Oh, you needn't worry about me. Unless they're packing dragonslayers, I'll be just fine."

And he left before I could point out that it only took one well-placed arrow to take down Smaug. I _really_ hoped he didn't have a similar Achilles' heel. And thinking of arrows reminded me of Kail, probably somewhere in Ferox fighting for his life. I didn't worship gods, but I prayed for the both of them.

 _I don't want to be alone here._

I rubbed at my face, sighing heavily as my second wind started dissipating. I definitely needed to rest up tonight. But now my brain couldn't stop thinking about what was in my future. Downing the rest of the tea—I would definitely be going to Zant if I couldn't find any other suppliers—I set the empty cup in a wagon so I could look for something to keep me busy.

"Frederick," I called, striding over to the great knight after he finished discussing something with a farmer. "Buddy. Pal. What can I do?"

His heavy boots _clunked_ as he faced me, stern expression belying the irritation in his voice. "I have been ordered by the Shepherd's tactician, and by Lady Lissa, to direct you to the nearest cot."

"Oh, ha, ha." I scoffed. When Frederick moved forward, I took a few back myself, frowning. "...uh. Wait. Are you being serious?"

"I am always serious, ma'am."

" _Seriously?_ No," I waved him off, "not to what you just said, but—they _ordered_ you to do that?" I growled, trying to rub away the approaching headache. "What, is Robin my _dad_ now? Lissa's concerned and all, yeah I get it, but _Robin too?_ What's next? Someone praying for Naga to descend from her heavenly cloud to hand me a pillow?" I stopped the great knight with a palm. "I'm almost twenty-three-years-old, so I _think_ I can find my own way to bed. But there's still a lot to do around here. So don't waste your time on me."

I spun on my heel and went looking for Robin to give him a piece of my mind. If I wanted to stay up and work, that was my business! I was a grown adult! I could deal with my mistakes! Hell, I'd been doing it for years before I came here, and I _definitely_ didn't need anyone trying to act like my father! Who did he think he was?

 _Yes, I know he's the tactician in charge of this little militia_ — _but shut up, Logic, nobody asked you._ He could direct me on a battlefield, but he wasn't allowed to start strategizing my life choices. I'd had quite enough of that over the last fifteen years.

A tap on my shoulder nearly made me break my hand against Kellam's armor, and although he really didn't deserve the glare it didn't seem to bother him either. "You... really _should_ go to sleep, Megan."

"Et tu, Brute?"

This was enough pause to overhear some raised voices. Adjusting my march, I came across Sully waving a sword in Lon'qu's general direction—and both of them had a few injuries I was pretty sure hadn't come from helping with the clean-up.

"Oh, for the love of—"

I went and found Lissa.

"Hey! I told Frederick to march you to bed!"

"I need your staff."

"Uh, okay— _whoa!_ "

"And you with it."

Her curiosity turned into alarm once I brought her to what had turned into a duel between the two. It was thanks to her flailing arms and yelling that they stopped—Sully to shout back, and Lon'qu to act as if he was going to leap through a window to get away.

"What the heck is going on here?!"

"This bastard thinks he's too good to fight me—look, I don't _need_ healing—"

"W-w-woman! Stay b-back!"

"But Lon'qu, you're hurt!"

"It'll be _worse_ the next time he says some bull—"

"Can you _please_ just let me heal you guys?"

I did not have the patience for _any_ of this.

"Uh... Megan?"

"Kellam," I growled, marching forward. "Lissa, stand back," I added as I clasped her shoulder, forcing her behind me as my cauldron-full of frustration finally started to boil over. _I'm tired beyond tired, I've only had TWO cups of tea in the past month and a half..._ And now I had a killer migraine. Energy dancing across my fingers, they clenched like claws at my sides as I raised my voice towards Sully. "Cut this shit out."

Taken off-guard briefly, the redhead's still burning anger prompted her to shoot back, "I'm not putting up with his crap! He's going to fight me seriously—"

" _Cut this shit out,_ " I repeated. This time, it was emphasized by wisps of dark magic as I stabbed a finger in their direction, which let off purple sparks. "Shut up and let Lissa heal you."

"I don't need any—"

"D-don't come any closer—"

My vision darkened as I made possibly the freakiest growl in the history of Megan is Tired and Pissed.

" _DID I STUTTER?_ "

"Eep," went Lissa behind me. For the other two's part, they managed to share a look that communicated a wealth of "oh shit" between previously antagonistic parties.

Blinking the darkness away, I glanced down and gave a small "huh" at the cold, dark energy swallowing my hands. It looked like a waste spell was centered on the palms, but I hadn't said the incantation. _That's new. Whatever._

My head snapped back up, and spelled shadow-fingers clutched Lon'qu's foot to keep him from running away from the cleric skirting around me. "Stay _still,_ you idiot," I said in a far more normal tone of voice, "she doesn't have to be in your face to heal you." It was closer than the required twenty paces, sure, but he could get over it this one time. What was he going to do until a male healer joined?

I kept him still for the few moments it took the princess to heal him. The millisecond he was free, he bolted. Turning, I found Sully with her palms up in surrender. She didn't want to be next.

"Damn," she muttered as Lissa waved her staff once more. "Remind me to stay on your good side."

I snorted. _Damn straight._ Then I was reminded of the painful spikes being driven into my brain and groaned, clutching my forehead. "Fuck. My. _Life._ I _never_ have migraines," I told Lissa as she examined me.

"Well, you didn't sleep, did a bunch of work, shouted a lot, and used some weird magic." Tallying up the fingers, Lissa told me truthfully, "I'd be more surprised if you _didn't_ have a headache."

"I don't always get headaches." _But when I do, I prefer curling up in a ball and never getting back up,_ I parodied in my head, even as I whined aloud for help. At least it was getting dark, so there wasn't light to irritate me.

Lissa pretended to bop me with her staff. Her restraint was appreciated. "I'm prescribing you lots of water and _sleep._ You're worse than Frederick."

"Nobody's worse than Frederick," I argued. Then I frowned. "Wait. Not worse as in Frederick is bad, he's the super knight, but... I'm too tired to figure this out, Lissa, you know what I mean." Her laughter was too loud, but she led me away to peace and quiet, so I could forgive her for that.

Before I settled into bed, Robin came to scold me for pushing myself... and to ask more quietly, "So what put the fear of the gods into Lon'qu?"

"Women," I snorted tiredly. _What else?_

"And Sully?"

"Robin, I'm tired," I whined, head bobbing as if to prove this fact. _Weren't you the one trying to get me into bed?_ I was too exhausted to even laugh at the innuendo.

"Heh, I probably don't want to be your third victim, huh?"

"Oh, ha, ha. Don't you have people to boss around?"

"Get some sleep, all right?"

"Yeah, okay, _Dad._ "

He left me alone, probably to continue assisting town repairs and help the royal siblings prepare for the "talk" at the border. No doubt he would consider things going sour and plan accordingly.

When my head hit the pillow, I had enough time before passing out to decide that what would happen tomorrow, would happen. At the very least, I had a good idea of what to expect.

* * *

Tomorrow would show me just how naive that thinking was.

.

* * *

 _In other news, me and Oblivion have been brainstorming on all things Fire Emblem! You can trust that we'll try to make this fic, and any other FE fics we write solo or otherwise, interesting and fun!_

 _...does anyone else have a sudden craving for a Snickers?_


	9. Survive

_Here it is, folks._

* * *

.

I woke up more rested than I had expected, although it wasn't really restful. I rubbed at my eyes, trying to wipe away the dreams of war and death. This time, the nightmare had been centered on people being slaughtered like cattle. I had watched them die before my eyes. Both the guilty and the innocent.

I was starting to hope I could find something like a dreamless sleep potion in this world. Dreams just weren't worth it right now.

Using what water was left in my canteen, I cleaned my face and chanted under my breath, "Optimism, optimism, optimism..." Things would probably go to shit today, but I wasn't going to let the fear follow me.

 _"Fear will serve you well," someone had told a soldier, in my dream. His bared teeth were like the gigantic aged bones sitting outside Plegia Castle._

I shook my head, chanting louder. Fear would do me more harm than good.

* * *

What's a foolproof way to distract yourself from anxiety, when you can't be a recluse?

Nerd talk with Miriel!

"—which I think is kinda funny with how well it fits. I mean, we're both mages with "M" names, and the rune for "M" has the connotation for "magic" and "knowledge." I don't believe in fate or name fortunes, but it _is_ a funny little coincidence."

As usual, I was all too eager to discuss the runes used in magic tomes. Her own enthusiasm rivaled mine.

"There are fascinating linguistic origins for the preponderance of syllabaries in our contemporary tomes. Incalculable records and archives perished from temporal disregardance, regrettably, which I endeavor to rectify at the soonest juncture."

Like I've said before, translating Miriel-speak wasn't impossible, it just took careful listening and some thought. "...Yeah, I get ya. There's that one rune—the one for "V"? None of the books I've read seem to agree on what its original meaning was, so people just say it's for something lost in the void or what have you. It's a bit too on the nose, but hey, I'm no scholar—"

"Hey, eggheads," Sully interrupted, drawing up beside us on her horse. "I gotta ask you something."

Miriel adjusted her spectacles, her irritation from being interrupted settling with an opportunity to educate a peer. "Certainly."

"...actually, Zant told me to ask you," the cavalier said, gesturing at me. My eyebrows rose as she went on, "What should I do with these scales he gave me?"

"Scales?" I blinked, wondering why in the world she had a pouch of them. "...oh, duh, he's a dragon, he probably sheds them."

Sully snorted. "Yeah, he does."

"I'm not sure why he told you to ask me, but..." I nearly fumbled when Sully tossed the pouch over. Loosening the tie to peer inside, I admired their sheen as I thought more on the subject. "Well, you could go Skyrim on them and make armor out of it."

"Skyrim?" Miriel, of course, wanted to understand every little reference from home I made. It became marginally less worth it to make them.

"Uh, it's a game about... never mind."

I picked one out to tilt it in the sunlight, squinting. _Geezums, I could eat a sandwich offa these things._

"...yeah. I don't know anything about smithing armor, but if you added them to your breastplate or spaulders or shields, then these should obviously give you some more defense." _Gotta thank Stahl later for the terminology lesson._ "Probably not from wyrmslayers, but other things. And maybe make you a bit more fire resistant, considering the type of dragon he is. That'd be cool."

I turned it over. "These look like they're from his back, which are thicker than the ones on his underbelly. Remember the tournament in Ferox? He was like a wall. Dunno if it'll help against magical attacks, but I don't think it could hurt. Ooh, what if you added them to a weapon? If you could keep it well-balanced, then maybe... I wonder if the scales themselves could be used to keep some flames going? A flaming lance! Or sword! How cool would _that_ be?"

With a shrewd glint in her eye, Miriel suggested, "We should conduct experiments to ascertain the myriad of alchemic possibilities—"

Quiet through my rambling, Sully cut in now with a loud, "Hell, no!"

"In the name of science, I implore you—"

"Science, my arse!"

I muffled a snort as I returned Sully's pouch. "Zant will pro'ly shed some more eventually. He's kinda covered in 'em."

"Yeah, well, _you_ ask 'im then." She nudged her horse ahead, leaving me snickering beside an academically cockblocked Miriel. I wasn't sure what was funnier: The fact that Miriel was an excitable little nerd, or the fact that Sully hadn't expected that reaction the moment she'd brought it up. Probably the former. Was she _pouting?_

"Okay," I tried nudging her out of the sulk, "so we were talking about runes." Unclipping the purple tome at my waist, I directed her attention as I inquired, "So, this one, for "x"—"

And the spectacled scholar was back in commission, just as planned. "Ah, yes. I postulate it appears frequently in incantations for dark magic, as it betokens tenebrosity and the aspirations within..."

"Tenebrosity?"

"Tenebrosity, its root word meaning "darkness." "

"Ah, thank you. That would explain why a lot of dark magic incantations have "x" in them. In fact, the first few letters seem to be _very_ important to the nature of the spell itself," I said, getting enthralled once more. What can I say, I'm weird. "But I'll bet it's not just dark magic that has connotations for dreams and wishes. I mean, that's basically what healing magic is."

"In a sense, although those arcane constructs are oft led by the rune of prophecy, as is common practice in ecclesiastical practices."

"In what practices?"

"Related to the clergymen and women of the church."

"Oh, thank you. But I imagine it's not across the board, because not every healing spell is a prayer to the gods, considering how nosferatu—"

A shout went up, interrupting the nerd talk. Our attention snapped forward as Chrom called for quiet, with Robin explaining that we were close to the Plegian border. A heavy stone settled in my gut. I snapped the tome closed and tucked it away, then passed my pack to a nearby cart with a whispered hex to keep it safe. I didn't need anything weighing me down. But I did snag a vulnerary, just in case.

Striding forward, I abused my slight frame to dive between Shepherds, apologizing as I went. This time was far less jovial than my escapade at Arena Ferox.

"Pardon me, excuse me, sorry sorry—"

"W-w-woman!"

"Super sorry, Lon'qu!"

 _I'm so glad I cut the tunic this morning so I can freakin' run._

As I was trying to figure out whether I wanted to try interfering with this "parley" or not, a familiar lance forced me to halt. Swallowing a squeak, I caught Frederick's stern look. He wasn't allowing a suspicious person near the royals at this pivotal moment. _He probably thinks it's bad enough that Robin is there—and wow, how did I never notice Robin was taller than Chrom, that's hilarious._ It was annoying to be excluded, but I understood I really didn't have a place in their "negotiations" anyway. _I'm a faaangirl... in an FE woooorld._

Wait, this wasn't the time to be singing "Barbie Girl" parodies or cracking jokes, even in my head. A war was about to start, and I was at ground zero!

I was about to fight in a war.

 _Dammit, can't let the anxiety get to me._

Frederick had turned his attention back to the more important scene before us. Seeing the cliff at the border between Plegia and Ylisse, I was thankful that the tactical genius would be handling this confrontation once everything went to shit. _This is MUCH different than a video game._ Without the aerial view afforded by the game screen, I couldn't tell what sort of enemies and how many waited where—although even I knew the cliffs would be crawling with baddies at Gangrel's signal.

And there he was. Standing tall as fuck above us, with wild auburn hair and a cape so bright it rivaled the sun, was King Gangrel of Plegia. I couldn't see his expression from where I was, but his maniacal cackle rang overhead. A woman, presumably Aversa, stood beside him.

 _Holy shit, I can see her cleavage from HERE._ Yeah, that was definitely Aversa.

"What's this, then? The Exalt herself, in all her radiance?" Gangrel brought a hand up, mocking, "I fear I must shield my eyes! Bwa ha ha ha!"

 _Gods, his laugh is ridiculous._

Emmeryn stood as the weathered rock to the man's violent storm, unfazed. Chrom already looked ready to start a fight, unfortunately. And Robin studied it all, preparing for anything and everything. _Good. We'll need that battle plan._ I glanced at Zant, but he was focused on the main attraction. At least him being here meant I wasn't the only one present with gamer knowledge.

 _Kail, PLEASE be safe._

Meanwhile, Emmeryn had asked about Maribelle.

"Who? Oh yes, the little blond brat." Gangrel snorted, gesturing a man forward with their hostage, bound and blindfolded. Details left out of the game.

"Wretched beast!" Oh, I could hear that from here, too. And man oh man, did I love what I heard. "Unhand me, you gutter-born troglodyte!" The fury in that woman's pinky toe would be enough to set a man on fire, and she was filled to bursting with the stuff. _Rah, rah, fight the powah!_

"This girl," Aversa lied, "crossed the Plegian border without our consent. And what's more... She wounded the brave Plegian soldiers who sought only to escort her safely home."

 _Right,_ I snorted.

" _Lies,_ " screamed Maribelle. "You speak nothing but lies, hag! Did they not teach the meaning of the word "truth" in wretched-crone school?!"

I swallowed a grin. _Fuckin' GET 'EM, girl!_ Except she wasn't exactly in a position to piss off her captors right now. _Shit. Okay, maybe later would be better for that._

Gangrel and Aversa were saying awful things about her, and she finally snapped when the king suggested reparations for this "slight." Stomping her foot, she cried, "I have done nothing wrong! It is they who should confess! They are the ones who invaded Ylisse. They razed an entire village!"

I thought of the farmers and merchants we had left just this morning, how surprised but elated they were to see the Exalt on their side. So many buildings had been destroyed...

"Let the plundered shops and charred homes of that village serve as my proof!"

I had appreciated Gangrel's sarcasm and theatrics as part of his character, but now I was witness to it and, like my thoughts on "Freddy Bear," I wasn't laughing in-person. He utilized it to deny blame and express mock-sympathy.

"That would only prove Ylisse has a bandit problem—something I hear oft of late..." _Right. I'm sure you've heard of it, in the reports of successful raids, you cocky motherfucker._ He was dismissive, going on, "But indeed, I shall weep salty tears into my pillow for your dead villagers."

I tried not to think about the bodies the villagers had spoken of in hushed tones. He was simply trying to disturb and rile us up.

 _Calm. Icy calm._ I remembered what would happen. I needed to be prepared. I began silently mouthing the different spells I knew.

"Peace, Maribelle." Emmeryn's voice was a soothing reminder that there were level-headed people in charge. _She won't be successful in keeping the peace, but who would be with pre-defeat Gangrel involved?_

Staring the man down, she began, "King Gangrel." Damn, even now, she was respectful of the man's title. "I demand you release this woman at once." My features twitched as the word "demand" stood out immediately. Had the Exalt ever demanded anything of anyone before? "Surely you and I can resolve these affairs without the need for hostages."

An ill feeling crept down my spine, pooling in my gut. Things were going rather well—or at least, they were going to script. Sort of.

"Oh? Without so much as an apology? Why should I even bother with parley?"

I still couldn't help wondering about that "demand." _First Chrom yelling at Frederick... now this._

"I'm within my rights to have her head and be home in time for supper."

"You black-hearted devil!"

"Control your dog, my dear, lest he gets someone hurt."

It was beginning to dawn on me that things could play out far, far differently from the story I knew, and there wouldn't be anything I could do about it. Hell, Emmeryn might not be as merciful as I expected her to be. Gangrel could be twenty times crueler. And Chrom could die before he fulfilled even a part of his role as hero prince. _Variables, so many variables... the future ever-changing, mutable and unknown._

Oh, that anxiety was back. It was back as hell.

"Because I know the legend!" Gangrel's exclamation reminded me that negotiations hadn't ceased. Was he already bartering? "The Fire Emblem is the key to having all one's wishes realized. I have desired it for years. Years!"

 _Has he really?_ I couldn't think of a reason for him to lust for that artifact in particular, other than the flimsy one he had provided. _Aversa is probably pushing him to get it, for Validar. He's deep in their pockets._

Emmeryn's inquiry for his "noble wish" made him bark, "I want what every Plegian wants: A grisly end to every last Ylissean! What could be more noble than that?" _Is it inappropriate for me to be thankful that I don't fall under that category?_

"What?"

Emmeryn was taken aback. I suppose hearing someone wanted your entire kingdom slaughtered would startle any ruler worth their salt.

"Surely you haven't forgotten what the last exalt did to my people. Your father named us heathens!"

 _Okay, religious persecution IS awful._ My own personal beliefs had wandered from the flock.

"His "crusade" across Plegia butchered countless of my subjects and my kin!"

I winced. _Religious persecution, AND mass genocide._ Right. Those were almost always a package deal.

 _But, dude, your country worships the Fell Dragon. Y'know. The dragon who wants to destroy everything and kill everyone?_

"...I have never denied Ylisse's past wrongdoings." The reminder seemed to have pained Emmeryn physically. I didn't blame her for regretting her father's sins. He was the one who had planted this hatred to germinate in the hearts of Plegia. "But I have sworn to never repeat those mistakes. Ours is now a realm of peace."

"Yours is now a haven of hypocrisy," Gangrel snarled back. "Now give me the Fire Emblem!"

Maribelle's head snapped around. "No, Your Grace! You mustn't!"

Voices were being raised. Arcane energy gathered in my fingertips. I watched as Frederick tensed, moving away with his lance to take a protective stance in front of Lissa. _Yes, keep her safe!_ I took some steps forward, intent on doing the same.

Then I noticed the men who were approaching. Armed men. _Oh shit, OH SHIT—_

My hand snapped forward as I forced out an incantation. A fireball connected with a fighter's bare chest. He stumbled back with a cry, and I stared at the charred, weeping skin after the Falchion whistled through another soldier. That was my handiwork.

"Stay back, lest you all suffer the same fate!"

"Oh?" Gangrel said it as if he had already won. In a way, he had: He had accomplished what he'd come here to do. "Now that's a declaration of war if I've ever heard one. A big, messy war that will bleed you Ylisseans dry. Bwa ha ha!"

Falchion sang. Bodies dropped.

And so it begun.

* * *

Robin had already prepared a strategy, directing everyone into battle formations before telling Chrom to follow him for the forward charge. At first I wanted to scream at them to stay _away_ from the conflict since they were going to be so integral to the survival of this world. But that wasn't a bombshell I could drop at the cusp of a pivotal battle. I had to hope they survived this.

No, I had to have faith in them. They were going to be heroes. I was sure of it.

 _I just have to hope that_ I _survive this._

Zant and Lon'qu were sent westward, with Sumia overhead on her pegasus. I wanted to scream at _them,_ but Robin intended for the trio to keep their forces from flanking the rest of us. I guess I shouldn't be too afraid when one of them was a dragon... but every life was hanging in the balance on this battlefield.

 _Please don't fuck up._

Following Robin's orders, I grabbed Lissa's arm to bring her to Emmeryn's side. There wasn't time to contemplate possibilities and what ifs; I had to protect them both. Thankfully, Phila was soaring far overhead with some of her own soldiers, contending with wyverns that had gone to the skies when all hell broke loose.

Head whipping about, I shouted to ensure Kellam's invisible wall of armor and Virion's bow were in position behind the royals I was to help protect. Stahl and Sully were on either side of the royal women, with Frederick covering the rear. We were to follow behind Chrom and Robin's lead. I was to fight alongside Miriel and Vaike in front, pushing forward and providing the lord and tactician ahead of us arcane support as Vaike kept us bookworms from losing our heads.

This was so much different from defending against a random Risen encounter. This was war. The thought of being near the front of the offense was terrifying—so I stopped thinking about it. Shut down my emotions to focus on the immediate.

The immediate was an incoming axe.

Vaike surged forward, deflecting it with a _clang_. Steel flashed as his own attack missed by a hair's breadth. It was one of Miriel's crackling fireballs that connected with the attacker's chest. He fell, and Vaike made quick work of him.

Ahead was Robin taking his sword out of another corpse. He nodded for Chrom to proceed him, and then cast an encouraging smile in our direction before moving forward.

"Don't worry," was the silent message, "we'll see this through."

Right.

I stepped around the man I had watched Miriel and Vaike defeat. Briefly glancing down, my gaze snapped back up to scan our surroundings. _Focus._ A few Plegians were coming from our left, trying to impede our progress. I sent wind-blades and tore through one man's shoulder. As he wasn't a flimsy reanimated corpse, his arm remained attached, but he had the awareness to feel pain and scream. Then an arrow sunk into his throat, shutting him up.

"What?" Vaike bellowed. "Dead already?!"

"Fancy that."

Part of my next wind-blades cut into the second man, but the third managed to evade and drew his arm back. I ducked. Something whistled over my head. Before I could retaliate, dark orbs exploded a few feet to my right, throwing me to the ground. A dark mage was giving her comrades time to draw their axes to hurl or charge with.

"We are required on the path ahead," Miriel reminded as I scrambled back up.

Teeth grinding, I focused on the dark mage. My first spell missed, but the anger fueled me. Trading blows, I puffed with vindictive triumph when my gale spell finally connected with her skull. Her headdress fell to the ground. Miriel's magic exploded against the nearby fighters. Two hadn't fallen, but they had gotten within range of Stahl's sword, and Kellam's javelin.

When our path was finally cleared, I forced my gaze away and followed Vaike's march after Chrom, not wanting to linger around the stench of scorched flesh. Its comparison to Risen miasma wasn't important right now.

Miriel caught my attention with a raised hand. "I have a suggestion," she began.

"Paraphrase." A battlefield wasn't the proper place to dissect context clues. Our need to pause conversation for another Plegian squad from the west emphasized that point. A few good hits on Vaike forced him to Lissa's side for a break.

Pursing her lips, Miriel obliged. "They do not envisage us to utilize dark magic against them."

I picked my way carefully at the start of the slope, arm shooting out to keep her steady. "Yeah, but it's not as accurate as wind magic."

"You needn't land every spell," Miriel argued. "Merely the phenomena will befuddle. Disorientation is a hazard—" A sound like an amplified war horn swallowed the rest of her sentence, coming from the west. _Sounds like Zant's hard at work already._ The fliers who couldn't find safe places to land came down hard, screaming. I had to look away, and focus.

Miriel was right. If I could cast dark magic discreetly, even a miss would be useful. It was something to keep in mind as we made our way up the path.

And I preferred thinking about ways to be useful so I could ignore the fact that I had just helped kill—no, _killed_ several men and women—

"Chrom!"

Lightning sizzled through the air, striking a mage crouched at the cliff's edge. Chrom's thanks were shouted over the din of combat. His white cape snapped at the top of the slope, heavily contrasting with Robin's dark cloak. They were beacons, the flashes of color distracting me from a deadly downwards spiral.

Shadowy fingers crept along the ground to grab Robin, but he leapt out of range, thankfully covered by Chrom's Falchion.

Remembering my role, I picked up the pace to finally crest the last portion of the hill and search for any sign of the dark mage who had to be nearby. Vaike nearly barreled past me, he was so eager to fight. The warm breeze at my back signaled Miriel preparing another spell.

 _Where are they?_

A cry of pain snapped my attention to Chrom, who had dark wisps fading from his person. Lissa shouted. As he was clutching his chest and angled a certain way, my search went towards the northwest and caught sight of a copse where another orb came shooting from.

 _There's the asshole!_ I pointed the area out for Miriel, and decided to implement her earlier suggestion.

While Vaike grabbed one axe-wielder's attention, I sent dark orbs towards another's feet before he could join in the fray. He shouted over his shoulder, fortunately not connecting that the angle was completely wrong for that to have come from his comrade. It was surprising that I could practice discretion in this environment. This slip led to an opening for Chrom's blade in their ensuing duel. Blood splattered the lord's boots. He wrenched Falchion free from the body, and Vaike came forward once more to finish the job.

They shared a look, Vaike clapping Chrom's shoulder with a grin, before Lissa waved her healing staff and Robin called the lord ahead. And then darkness claimed my vision.

I choked on icy mist. Was something suffocating me?

 _I can't die, I CAN'T, I can't I can't don't let me die—_

It passed. I heard Miriel's incantation before wind-blades seared overhead and into the leg of the dark mage who had caught me off guard. He fell. I blinked away tears, watching as fire _woofed_ around him, cutting off his cries for help.

Giving a noise of disgust, Miriel told me, "We must persevere." The logical note almost covered the concern as she examined me.

 _I have to stay strong._ A cold neutrality sinking in, I pushed away thoughts of dying and screams and charred flesh. My jaw locked shut until the moment to thank her had passed.

* * *

Cries in the distance motivated us to continue on through the Plegian forces. Chrom and Robin hadn't stopped, and we needed to speed up if we were to keep providing arcane support. Thankfully, it appeared there was a small respite. At the very least, no one was leaping out at us. I couldn't help the paranoia as we marched, sending a glance back at the princess and the Exalt. I had almost forgotten Emmeryn was there. This was when I saw Lissa's face turn chalk white.

"No," she breathed, barely audible over the heavy thumping of my heart.

I whipped back around, barely registering the sight of ginger and blonde and _blood_ before an ear-splitting roar announced a wyvern diving for our heads.

A dark sphere from my palm caught its face, but it still dove. An arrow went wide. And it barely whiffed over Chrom's head.

 _NO!_

" _Chrom,_ " Lissa yelled again, panicking. She tried to move forward, but Vaike held her back as Stahl shouted something about her safety.

Lightning arced and struck the wyvern's leg as it passed overhead, attempting to get out of range of our archer.

But Virion seemed too shaken to aim right. He was as white as his cravat while he fumbled another shot.

"Fuckin' _hit it!_ " My heart was pounding so hard it hurt my chest.

Miriel released blades of wind that caught the beast's underbelly. Robin was trying to help Chrom with Plegians on the ground—which the wyvern rider took advantage of, aiming for him on another dive.

Virion once again missed, and an axe lodged into Robin's shoulder.

Magic seared my fingertips as I knifed a hand diagonally, putting as much force into the gale spell that ripped into the wyvern's wing membrane. I managed to keep my footing, heels digging into the ground, and watched as the wyvern missed its landing and stumbled over the side of the cliff. Man and beast screamed on the way down.

"I-I'm terribly sorry," Virion stammered while Lissa mended the tactician's wound. "I—I'm not sure what—"

"It's okay," I lied on automatic, because he needed to hear it, "but _aim_ and _focus,_ or someone's going to—"

" _Ricken!_ "

"—die."

Oh, _fuck_.

My thoughts silenced themselves at the sight of Ricken on the ground, being attended to by someone with a staff. Blood mixed with dirt and gravel. I hadn't just imagined it, like I'd hoped.

Tears streamed down his face as he clutched his right arm. Or... what was left of it.

With the way cleared of enemies, Lissa pushed past me and Vaike to see what she could help with. It was more productive than _I_ was, staring at the boy missing his arm below the elbow, a yawning sense of failure in my gut.

 _I did this,_ came the thought. _This is my fault. I did this._

"You are trembling," Miriel noted.

No fucking shit, I was trembling. I was in the middle of a war zone watching people get hurt all around me and _so much of it was my fault._

 _Keep calm, don't break down, stay strong, FOCUS—_ Something crackled in my ears.

Clenching fists at my sides, Mental Shutdown Mode returned as I turned my gaze to another soldier covering Chrom and Robin's push north. The stranger was in full dark knight gear, complete with helmet, wielding sword and spells to harry the Plegians that were left. Their armor was dark as night. Comforting.

But they weren't a foe. That was all that mattered.

My attention shifted to the path ahead of them, where a trio of dark mages held a line at the top of the slope, behind the swords and axes blocking our climb. Miriel was already combating them with occasional assistance from Robin's thunder, but all of the spell-slinging strayed near the stranger aiding Ricken. I launched forward thanks to another gale, bringing me to Robin who was successfully fielding the assaults aimed in the prince's direction.

The sight of electricity crackling against hexes like an arcane shield was something I'd file away for experimentation.

Vaike tangled with another fighter, aiming to protect the group of healers now by Ricken's side.

Robin's sword was then turned onto the myrmidon heckling him as he told me, "Keep their mages occupied!"

Another myrmidon slipped around him to try disemboweling me. But lightning bolts pierced through the air to impale the man's gut and force a retreat. There wasn't time to thank the dark knight responsible. Ricken's life was still in danger. I had a job to do.

The dark mages had turned their attentions to Robin, but the spells that weren't off-course tangled with my wind-blades. With that, I became a target.

And that was fine.

 _Protect them at all costs._

Ricken's sob from behind spurred me on. I heard Miriel speak, yet the words of caution sat in the back of my mind as I thought _protect, protect, protect._

I clawed at the air, and little dark tears in the fabric of reality threatened the Plegians and further botched their aim. Spells exploded around me. Although emotions didn't breach my expression, I poured them into the arcane and the dark. And the magic fed on that. I didn't relent.

"She's a dark mage," a Plegian shouted. "Traitorous _bitch!_ "

Then there was cold darkness in my palms. And this time I didn't miss. Strike, strike. The dark mage that had shouted stumbled. I heard Chrom's name, but I had to focus on my opponents.

Miriel threw fire from my side as the mages attacked in sync—the air above our heads crackled with power. I got the brunt of something, stumbling and coughing through the purple smoke. I slung spells that missed, and fell on my side to avoid another explosion.

"I don't think so," Robin came in, lightning dancing across the distance. Yet they threw more obscuring darkness. The mysterious dark knight galloped from the side, releasing layered blades of arcane wind that sliced the space between the Plegians. They were forced to separate or become deli meat. Unfortunately, they were defending themselves rather well otherwise.

 _Let's fix that._ I spat, pulling myself up again.

Elder magic was less accurate, yes. I threw icy clouds at each dark mage and wasn't surprised that they moved out of the way. But it had forced them even farther apart, and one stumbled into Miriel's fireball while the dark knight charged another.

The third tried to take the opportunity to toss a hex between Miriel and me. We both attempted to parry it, with explosive results. My dark magic twisted her flames, until a _woof_ of purple hellfire shot across the battlefield, catching Robin's opponent on its way back to the dark mage.

Unfortunately, there was also friendly fire. Both of us were sent flying backwards by the blast. It was only thanks to Vaike's strong arm that Miriel didn't slam into the huddled healers.

I wasn't nearly as lucky.

" _Megan!_ "

 _FUCK!_

Rolling, I scrabbled at the ground. I screamed for my life as I dangled, halfway over the edge.

"Megan, hold on—ugh!"

I needed a better grip, I needed help up, I needed someone to stop that dark mage readying a spell or gods above and below I was going to die here.

I felt magic exploding somewhere; it rumbled through the ground, rattled my bones, and dislodged some of the rocks I hung from. I screamed, " _Help me!_ " I was sitting at the top of the rollercoaster without seatbelts and _I wanted off this ride now._

I was slipping. _Nonono NOT WHAT I MEANT—_

Clattering hooves approached, followed by weighted footsteps. I panicked and scrabbled for a second hold. Someone shouted. Head snapping up, I had enough time to see that it wasn't an enemy's outstretched hand before my grip started giving out.

" _AAAH—_ "

But Frederick hauled me up like I weighed nothing, nearly dislocating my arm in the process. "Don't get careless," he snapped. The sensation of nearly falling to my death lingered as nausea and panic. I couldn't let go of him, wanting precious security.

"Th-ank... you." Shit, the trembling was back. This wasn't the _time—_

The great knight hoisted me onto his steed behind him. He didn't need to instruct me to hold on before he spurred the horse onwards. "You will guard the Exalt and Lady Lissa with your life."

"Yes," I responded immediately, snapping back into business mode. _Push it all DOWN, no time to freak out._ He had likely decided I was better use serving double-duty as a guard and a patient. Reasonable. I could do that.

I glanced north towards the top of the slope, and noticed Plegian reinforcements preparing to run down and meet our steel.

Change of fucking plans.

 _Fuck, shit, DAMMIT—_

Feeling the energy crackling against his armor, Frederick was understandably upset when he shouted, "What are you doing?!"

"Stopping them!"

And I couldn't waste anymore of my time or breath to explain, short as I was on both. I could see the mysterious dark knight galloping around Lissa and them. Frederick and I were closer to the enemies. I didn't have a particular incantation in mind. But I had the willpower inherent in elder magic; that was where I'd start.

I focused my attention near the top of the slope. Drawing a fortifying breath, I sent darkness racing across the ground to draw an arcane line across the path. Frederick slowed to angle away from obvious dark magic. I swept a tongue of fire across this barrier; it immediately lit up with purple flames, forcing the faster Plegians to halt or risk magical burns. But I wasn't going to leave it at that. The fires would die quickly if left as they were.

Purple energy seared my hand, and I gasped as pain tore through my chest. But I threw it like javelin, telling the magic it had to _protect_.

" _Stay back!_ "

The dark fires flared with a _snap_ , climbing high enough that I couldn't see over them. If they had been normal flames, the heat would've explained my following dizziness—but these ones seemed to leech it from the surrounding air. I could see my breath puff out for the few seconds it took Frederick's horse to get out of range of the effect.

The moment Frederick brought us to a halt, I slumped over the side. Vaike caught me only to have me coughing against his shoulder.

"Megan, I'm so glad you're—oh!" Lissa helped me sit down. Well, it was more like she guided my fall. "Don't move!"

"Damn," I wheezed. "That's... exactly what I was going to—" My body interrupted my attempt at humor, forcing me to curl up and hack my lungs out. Swiping my tongue around, I tasted the tang of blood. _Great._

"I have never seen a spell like that, without an arcane matrix," Emmeryn murmured beside me. She was still here? Well, not like there was much a place for her to go. But it was dangerous, and... my thoughts were scattered. She continued, "Where did you learn of it?"

I didn't know how to tell her I had made it all up on the fly. _I took a theory and ran with it?_ A final coughing fit made me lift a hand to catch the blood.

"Oh, my."

Staring at my red palm, I croaked, "Uh... side note, Your Highness: Don't do that."

So elder and arcane magic was dangerous without proper preparation, just like light magic. _Who'dah thunk?_

Miriel approached, lips pursed. "I will edify you with a thorough revision of proper arcane safety protocols, once this battle is finished." I didn't like the sound of that.

"Heads-up," Robin called behind us. "We've got more injured!"

Seeing an unconscious Zant supported by Sumia and Lon'qu did nothing to make me feel better. The nausea prevented me from leaping up to help, but I told Lissa to focus on the manakete instead of me. _Gods, what's wrong with his LEG?_ He was a dragon, for crying out loud!

"But you need healing, too!"

"But _I_ don't have any fucked up limbs," I snapped back. Despite the close-calls, I hadn't broken any bones... yet. "Priorities, Lissa!"

I tensed, immediately cursing myself out. _She didn't deserve that._ She was my friend, and I desperately needed those right now. Maribelle glared at me over Ricken's head, holding a borrowed staff. The hot wash of shame forced out a softer "sorry." Lissa took it with a strained smile before turning to help the Exalt with Zant.

I rolled the vulnerary around my palm. The taste wouldn't mix well with blood.

Robin confirmed with Sumia and Lon'qu that the southern end of the slope was protected thanks to Zant blocking it with giant boulders. His quick thinking had unfortunately not accounted for his own safety, hence the broken leg. _Goddammit, Zant._ And we had the mysterious dark knight patrolling near my unnatural barricade, ensuring Plegians couldn't work around it. Had someone gotten their name yet?

"H-hey."

I realized someone was talking to me, and blinked. The stranger who had been healing Ricken was now facing me, a shaky smile on her face. She looked pretty young—probably only a little older than Ricken—and nowhere close to war material. But she seemed to be taking it all in stride. There was a decent amount of blood on her robes, and she waved her own staff before I could think to protest.

"Hi," I breathed, keeping it short to avoid another coughing fit. Staves were for healing, not hydrating.

She seemed to struggle for a conversation, probably to keep the mood from dropping into despair. But we were sitting in the middle of a battlefield, tending to our wounded and waiting for the fighting to start anew. It wasn't exactly prime time for chitchat.

Still, she tried.

"Sooo... come here often?"

I choked on a laugh, and then on some coughs. That was terrible. But I could appreciate terrible senses of humor right now.

"Oh, you know," I managed. "Every day. Lovely mornings strolls through the valley of death." It got her to giggle.

Before I could think of another morbid joke, her eyebrows shot up as she squeaked, "Uh, where are _you_ going?" This drew my attention to Lon'qu who, surprise-surprise, was trying to get away from the congregation of women.

He didn't answer, taking another step away, but Robin clasped his shoulder. "Let the healers do their jobs."

"I-I don't need healing from these _women._ "

The stranger straightened up, good humor evaporating into a Scolding Mother Look. _Oh, boy._ She marched over before he could get away from Robin, grabbing a hold of his arm to drag him into the healing circle. Seeing a young girl nearly half his height manhandle him was both funny and worrying. _He really COULD be murdered by a girl with a spoon._

"Ohhh, no. You're sitting _right_ here—" And she forced him down, in-between me and unconscious-Zant. "—and letting me heal you, or I'll hogtie you and heal you _that_ way!"

Lon'qu sat still as stone while she began waving her staff over him. I could see his knuckles turning white from gripping his knees. Was he shaking? Or was I, from the aftermath of almost dying?

 _I almost died. I ALMOST DIED._

My face twisted. _NO._ I needed a distraction. Schooling my expression, I asked the stranger, "What's your name?"

She nearly dropped her staff. "What? Oh, uh, sorry—I get so focused on healing that I just kinda forget to... yeah! Right!" She finished waving it before holding out her hand. "Call me Val, m-ma'am!"

"Cool. Val." I accepted the handshake, hoping she didn't feel the trembling. "Well, I'm Megan. You just healed Lon'qu, who... has some issues with females." He shot me a look. "What, it's the truth." And someone had to keep him from being beaten up by _more_ women.

Val giggled at the exchange, spinning around to tend to Sumia. "My brother has issues with people—so I totally get it!" She didn't, but I wasn't going to correct her.

"I have some brothers too," I found myself saying instead. As if this was the time to be thinking about them. My wandering gaze landed on Ricken's ginger hair, and focused on it to avoid looking at his arm. _It's about as red as my youngest brother's._ That was probably why they came to mind.

"Cool!" Val gestured north. "That's my brother up there. Uh, with the helmet. Sai. He's... not very talkative." That neatly answered most of my questions.

"We are grateful for your help," Emmeryn spoke up. She sat back, evidently finished with restoring Zant's good health. "The both of you protected and tended to our friends."

"Aww, it was nothin', ma'am! We're happy to—"

A screech carried over the cliff, cutting the smalltalk short. Val tensed, smile frozen on her face.

Well, it was nice while it lasted.

* * *

With our dragon and flier down, and many of Phila's own pegasus knights out of commission, we were at a disadvantage where air dominance was concerned. But we still had wind magic and arrows. Ignoring Lissa's warnings, my fraying coat rippled with the spells I prepared to conjure.

"Get ready," I told Virion. "Make those shots count." His "dashing" smile was rather grim, so I gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

I could imagine how much pressure he felt, after his earlier screw-ups. Of course, this was life-and-death kind of mistakes. But repeatedly berating him wouldn't make his aim any better. _Never did for me._

"Here they come!"

Seven forms came over the topmost cliff. An axe spiraled through the air, but Miriel deflected it. I ducked as air rushed overhead, tossing spells at the wyverns' underbellies. The leader—what was his name again?—lifted his axe as a rally.

"Take out these Ylissean dogs!"

A pegasus dived, but one of his henchman intervened. Their weapons collided, metal clanged, and then separated as wind went slicing through the air between them.

I grabbed both Val and Lon'qu to force them down as another wyvern made its pass. The healer was trembling, but Lon'qu was surprisingly not. _He's in Defend Mode._ His sword sang when he stood again.

"Lon'qu—" He sliced too fast for me to track and made a hit. Blood splattered on all three of us before the wyvern slid down the slope. I heard Val whine in disgust. "What is with you and dueling dragons?!" He ignored my scolding.

"Focus."

I leapt to my feet, pushing aside the lingering aches to conjure dark magic. "You focus!" The wyvern I aimed for shot upwards and out of range.

"This is not the time to argue—"

Something ripped through my right shoulder—the same one as before. This time the cut was deeper. I had a horrifying moment of being unable to feel the rest of my arm before the tingle of healing magic gradually returned its function. Val stood, shaky but on her feet.

I released my shoulder, conjuring freezing clouds and getting some satisfying hits on one wyvern and its rider. He slid over the side when an arrow finally lodged into his torso. " _Nice shot,_ Virion!" Was that two down?

"But of course!"

I whipped my head around. Frederick was dealing with the Plegian who had managed to outlast the wyvern Lon'qu downed. The air _vibrated_ with shrieks, and it was messing with my head. I noted Miriel staggering for Lissa's healing staff, glasses askew and robes bloody. _Oh, FUCK—okay, she's not dying._ Fucking axes. A glance skywards proved the only things keeping us from drowning in wyverns and axes were the few pegasus knights still in the air, and the smaller target we made on the slope for their larger beasts. They couldn't all strike at once or they'd risk crashing into each other. Pegasi were far more maneuverable.

In all of this chaos, someone called for me. Robin was making his way over, slinging lightning to ward off another diving wyvern.

"Megan!" Nearly stumbling over Val, he gave a short apology as he grasped my shoulder. "That barrier you made earlier—can you repeat it?"

"Uh—" Couldn't hesitate now. "That was just something I threw together, I'm not sure I can—"

"Even if it's less powerful," he explained hurriedly, "it could protect the Exalt and the injured. Can you try?"

 _Protect._

"Yes." It came out without warning, and I nearly panicked when he moved away. _He's leaving it at that?!_ I snatched his shoulder, blurting, "Wait! You—you did something with lightning earlier, it worked like a spell shield—"

"Yes—"

He dove forward, forcing me and Val down. She screamed when a wyvern snapped at our heads. _That's IT._

I pushed her towards Lon'qu, ordering, "Keep her safe." His phobia could wait until we all got out of this alive. I barely heard him agree before I was turning to Robin. "How did that work?"

Discussing magical theory had no place on the battlefield. I just needed a basic framework. A more controlled experiment could happen later. Thanks to Robin's concise explanation, ideas finally took shape in my head as I examined the area I had to work with. I quietly tested the new incantations we had concocted together.

 _It'll work._

With this, I crouched beside Miriel, who Lissa had just finished mending. The axe had done some real damage on her. "Can you use magic still?"

"...yes." Miriel adjusted her spectacles, light catching the lenses. "Were you planning on sharing the methods to your melding of the dark and anima schools of—"

"Later. I need you to help with a different spell." Because I wasn't sure I had enough in me to do it on my own. My barrier was just a straight line; this was a bit more complicated.

"What manner of spell—"

An explosion interrupted Miriel; thanks to my line of sight, I saw it was from some Plegian fool who had tried to leap through the dark flames. The woman's scream was like a needle to my temple. I swallowed and looked away, trying not to think about my magic devouring her corpse.

Seeing my expression, Miriel pursed her lips. "What spell?"

She caught on quick, holding in her need for further analysis. Once the royals and injured we were to protect had clustered together, and we were in position on either side, I shouted, "Everyone covered in metal, stand back!" Energy crackled, then snapped into place. Miriel's lightning arced up, anchored by the dark magic I had sunk into the ground. Electricity branched across the arcane matrix. It wasn't quite a dome, but it was close.

"Fascinating," Miriel commented.

The Plegians were getting antsy. Running out of throwing axes, the wyvern riders were getting dangerously close to simply sweeping Shepherds off of the cliff. I counted three wyverns left, unless the others just fucked off. With the zeal these guys exhibited, it wasn't likely.

Arrows protruding out of its wings, the leader swept upwards into the sun. I was surprised it could manage that. Another made a pass that finally swept off Miriel's hat, sending it tumbling through the wind. When had I lost mine? The third shrieked behind me, and an explosion of energy from the shield revealed it had tried to approach—and was summarily shocked, sent crashing into the slope ahead.

That left two wyverns airborne. One which was circling back around, its glide listing slightly, and... wait, had someone taken out the other? Robin was gesturing wildly, but I couldn't hear him over another roar.

My question was cut off as something like a freight train rammed into me. I bounced like a fucking beach ball. I couldn't breathe as I was dragged through the dirt. Was I actually going to fall over the edge this time?

When the dust settled and I realized I was pinned beneath sharp talons, I almost wished for another cliff-hanging adventure.

The Plegian captain peered over his mount. "Take down the shield," he shouted, "or this one's wyvern food!"

The rest of the world seemed muted as I stared into a gaping maw, the fangs glistening as the wyvern's hot breath washed over me. Was this how Frederick had felt when Zant pinned him down?

At least he'd had armor. At least Chrom could call Zant off.

At least he hadn't died.

 _NO!_

With a scream, I put everything I had into the palms restricted beneath its foot.

Of course, there was no way my twig arms could pick up a wyvern. It probably weighed a ton. So I went for wind magic, the strongest gale I could manage. I felt the magic tearing my skin from the proximity. But the wyvern was only barely leaning away, and it was probably going to crush me when it came back...

A javelin—no, a _hammer_ of electricity slammed into the beast's chest.

Blood trickled as the wyvern screamed with me, thrashing its head and nearly throwing off its rider. I wriggled, a talon catching my front, and managed to roll before it placed all of its weight forward. It stumbled as I crawled away. Everything ached. Something felt off. I was drenched in blood.

Hands appeared, forcing me to stay on the ground as my body started tingling. Conversation mostly went over my head. Turned out, one of my legs were broken by the impact, as well as a rib or two. I could tell Zant that we were injury-buddies once he woke up. At least his dragon-y hide protected him against injuries from wyvern talons.

Was this shock? Probably. How many times had I nearly died in the past hour?

Cool fingertips forced my gaze to meet Val's. Her eyes were dark, her lips in a tight line. Losing a patient was probably the worst part of a healer's job.

 _Well, I wouldn't want her and Lissa to have to live with my death, so..._ Once I could focus, I forced my sticky hand into a fist, then stuck out a thumb. Light magic couldn't numb everything, but I smiled through the pain. It probably looked a bit manic. I wanted to say "put me in coach," but the words wouldn't form.

Val tried mirroring me, looking just as insane, and tended to my bloody hands next.

* * *

I didn't know how exactly we won. Whether or not the last wyvern riders were killed, how many casualties were on our side, etc.

And for a while I didn't really care.

A strange sort of numbness had settled in my chest, and my head felt like it was full of mist. I knew it probably wasn't smart to dissociate right now, but I didn't stop it.

My smile felt plastic as Lissa, finally free from the magic shield, helped me to my feet. (Had Miriel or Robin taken it down? Did I really care enough to ask?) The smile fell immediately afterwards when I couldn't stand on my own. The princess was too small a prop, but then Sumia took her place with a few soft words.

"That was amazing." The pegasus knight sounded out of breath, and tired. I couldn't blame her. "That—that magic shield thing."

I nodded. My tongue felt like damp wool. "Miriel and Robin helped." No way in hell I would've managed that on my own.

"Wow... I didn't know spells could be used like that."

Since I didn't know what else to say, I just nodded again. It had been amazing, sure. The shield _worked,_ even warding away the wyverns with the threat of however many volts searing through their insides. But it all had taken so much out of me that I literally couldn't walk on my own right now. The pros didn't exactly outweigh the cons.

She carefully deposited me on the ground beside a stirring Zant. Staring at him, I was suddenly hit by the relief that we had made it through this.

We were _alive._ That was a fucking miracle.

But I knew it was only the first step on a long journey to getting home. _If_ we could get home. Signs were pointing to "no way in hell" on that one.

 _I didn't fucking sign up for this._

Zant woke up to a teary smile. The dragon took a moment to take in his surroundings, then grinned.

"So I take it we won?"

.

* * *

 _So this is what I meant, when I said not everything was going to be fun and games in this fic._

 _I'm the kind of person always trying to make others laugh_ — _and I love writing the funny stuff_ — _but when shit hits the fan, well, it's not pretty. This chapter took so long for me to finish because I didn't want it to be just another fight. T_ _his was THE FIGHT. The first real one of the war, and the first one where Megan had to fight against other human beings instead of reanimated corpses, with all of the psychological issues that entails._

 _I hope you aren't turned away because of the drastic mood shift. Don't worry, the funny will be back! But this has left its mark on the characters, and it's nothing to sneeze at._

 _(Insert obligatory morbid "need a hand" joke here, because my humor can be morbid and also I'm an awful person. I'm sorry, Ricken! I'll write something super fluffy for you to make up for this!)_

 _Fun fact: If you didn't already think I was awful, I originally wanted to post this chapter on Ricken's birthday, May 23rd. It didn't work out, unfortunately._


	10. Minisode, New Duds

_Long time, no see._

* * *

.

 **A month-and-a-half prior, back in West-Ferox... (During Chapter 1)**

When I woke up that first morning in Ferox, it was from the freezing cold I had struggled with all night. I'd kicked off my blanket at some point, probably because of my dreams, and my teeth were chattering. I wasn't feeling too hot... pun not intended. That man—the nice one, that I didn't recognize from a video game—had mentioned a fever. Great.

I sat up and squinted in the dim light of dawn. Where were—ah, there. I stretched to reach my glasses without further leaving the warmth... and heard something tear.

"...uh-oh."

Putting them on and glancing down, I recognized my "Plegian" wear and grimaced. Ripped-up pantyhose definitely wasn't my style. Or, whatever this sheer fabric was called. It was basically full-body pantyhose. Deciding it was a lost cause anyway, I snatched the blanket and wriggled under it for some privacy. Maybe I could take it off without getting completely naked?

...or rip the rest off.

Halfway through my struggle, footsteps entered the room. "Lass?" _Shit._ I poked my head out of my cocoon. It was the older gentleman from last night. Jael? His worry morphed into amusement. "Mornin'. Need some help?"

"No, I got it. Just... getting... out..." I ducked back inside and pulled with more _oomph_. " _Ha!_ " Nothing could stop me! Not even paperthin clothing!

"What are you..."

He thankfully didn't remove my little "privacy curtain" to figure it out. With the blessing of patience, he stood beside the cot until I finally came back out for air, with most of the offending fabric removed. I could deal with the bits underneath the bikini-esque parts later. I blinked, adjusting to the light again, and noticed his arched brow.

"...I was fixing something."

"Right. I couldn't help but notice, last night... well."

He turned to unlock one of the chests, pulling out another swath of dark fabric. He set it on the foot of the cot, and tipped it over so the contents could fall out. Some bangles, a neck piece, sandals—it was all of the extra accessories dark mages normally wore. In fact, the cloth he'd gathered them up in was the cape. It was a little tattered, but had fared better than the body-hose. Was I wearing all of that when they'd found me? My memory of the incident was a bit blurry right now.

As I stared at the items, Jael sat down beside them, examining my expression. "Those didn't look comfortable to sleep in, so we removed them along with the restraints."

I tried not to think about people touching me in my sleep. I was anxious enough. I told him honestly, "I have no idea where that stuff came from. I normally wear shirts and pants. _This_ is not really my style."

He smiled kindly, seeming to accept my words as truth. "You don't sound or act like a Plegian. I've fought enough of them. I'd know one when I see one. And you are... odd, perhaps, but not Plegian."

"Thanks," I said with what sarcasm I could muster. It made him grin at least. Glancing around, I noticed I wasn't the only patient awake. Strangers who weren't staring, but obviously curious. I lowered my voice, just to be safe. "I... kinda like the cape, though."

"I don't blame ya!" Jael laughed, reaching over to pat my leg through the blanket. I couldn't help my tensing at the touch. "Anyway. Megan, right? You can keep what you like. The coat and boots, too."

"Really?" I wrapped the coat more tightly around myself. It wasn't like I _wanted_ to part with it, but I didn't really have any way to pay him back...

Wait. Looking at the accessories, I gestured at them. "Then, you can have that stuff."

His eyebrows rose. "Have it?"

"Or sell it. As payment or thanks for keeping me alive and... stuff." Wow, I'm just so eloquent. Trying to feel more like myself, I joked, "I'm pretty sure those shoes aren't your size, anyway."

Laughing again, he shook his head and returned the shinies to the chest, locking it. He left the cape lying there, which probably wouldn't have gotten him much anyway. _Guess I'll hang onto that. Extra blanket._ He then took a vial out of his pouch, along with some bread and cheese. "Here. This will help with that fever."

"Thank you, sir."

"Just Jael is fine."

"Okay, "Just Jael." " Grinning at his mock-sigh, I tore into the bread, then tried to knock back the medicine. I gagged at the smell, nearly spilling it across the sheets. _"Guh—_ fuck! What is this, cough syrup?!"

"I... don't know what that is."

"It's gross, that's what it is." I made a face at the vial. _How dare you taste like that shit. I thought fantasy medicine was supposed to be better than that._ Jael and some younger patients thought this was the funniest shit, laughing at my misery. _You all suck._ "Well... bottom's up, I guess. _Hurk—_ "

Don't think about it, don't think about it, _fuck it was absolutely disgusting._ The light breakfast got rid of some of the taste, at least.

"It tastes awful, but it gets the job done."

"It better," I muttered, making a face at him. It was easy to make him laugh. Or maybe he thought me being childish was silly. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, looking for the boots. But a hand on my shoulder prevented me from standing up. "What?"

"You need to lie down and rest as much as possible," Jael argued. "Otherwise, you'll get worse. Can't have you running around in the snow again with a fever."

"I wouldn't—" He was giving me a look. What a stern healer-person. He didn't relent until I lifted my feet back onto the bed with a groan. "You're the worst."

"The khan would say otherwise," he smiled. I fell backwards, being a bit dramatic, and pretended I wasn't grinning too. It was nice that there were friendly people here, in this familiar but foreign place.

Right as I thought this, an idea occurred to Jael, causing him to move away with a promise to return. I watched him leave, then waited a minute or two before sitting back up and taking stock once more.

I had the dark mage bikini (well, the top was more like a sports bra) and it's belt-sash-loincloth thing; the tattered bits of sheer fabric still attached to those, on my chest and waist; rings on each middle finger that had been connected to the body-hose; a purple-black cape, slightly used; a gray winter coat, lined with brown fur on the inside, as well as along the neck and cuffs; and brown boots with similar fur-lining.

 _Guess this is better than nothing._ I tied the coat up tightly, then tugged the blanket up, trying to conceal as much skin from the cold as I could.

Well... here I was, in Ferox, in the world of _Fire Emblem: Awakening._ Somehow. No idea what sort of wormhole I fell into while asleep, but it sure picked a shitty place to spit me out at. Not that Ferox was a bad place, that I had seen anyway. However, it was not only absolutely bloody freezing, but said wormhole had changed my clothes and left me to the mercy of some crazy guys without so much as a by-your-leave. I was confused, but I was also kind of pissed. _Thanks a lot, universe!_

It didn't take long for the anxiety to start creeping back in, though. I was... _definitely_ a long way from home. No money, no friends or family, and no idea how to get back. Looking down at my lap, I wondered if it was even possible.

What was I going to do?

 _...well, find out how to get back home, I guess!_

I lightly slapped my face, willing the negativity to fuck off. Ain't nobody got time for that. I had to stay focused, stay positive, or I was going to drown. So I mentally shoved as forcefully as possible until the panic had been put under (an admittedly unhealthy) lock and key. _First things first: I need to think happy thoughts so I don't make myself even sicker!_

I must've been thinking pretty hard, because I only noticed Jael's entrance after he asked, "Are these yours?"

"Huh?" Glancing up from the thumbs I'd been twiddling in my lap, I happily turned my attention from my purpose in this bed to the book that Jael had in his outstretched hand. "Um, I don't think so... what is it?"

"It's a magic tome," he explained, allowing me to take it. "We found several with the men that kidnapped you..."

He would be very generous in the future, offering me a quill and some ink, and a bag for carrying the tomes along with my precious few belongings. Khan Flavia would give me a tie to put up my hair; Miriel, a brush to untangle it, and a mage's hat for the sunlight; and Frederick would toss in a beige tunic that became a short dress. The generosity of others was one of the things I didn't have terrible luck on, at least.

.

* * *

 _Hey, everyone! Sorry for the complete lack of progress since... a long time ago. I'm not dead! And neither is this fic! A combination of Life Things got in the way, but you guys don't really want to hear about that. As an apology, and as a way to get myself back into the groove, I wrote this little scene. It also helps reminds you readers (but more myself) what kind of duds she's currently rockin'. I am working on the next chapter right now, so here's to hoping it doesn't take several months to get that out to you guys! Hope you'll all forgive me, eventually. Ehe._

 _-Dragon_


	11. There are worse fates

_All right! I think that's enough waiting. On with the show!_

* * *

.

Zant and I were put into a cart for the ride back. I hated being a burden, but it was going to be enforced by Robin until we reached Ylisstol, where we could heal the worst injuries. Ricken was put into another cart, to be watched over by Maribelle. The others were either largely unharmed or able to walk with their injuries.

I heard from Lissa that Ricken had found the troubadour's horse in Themis and managed to ride it out to the cliff for his rescue attempt. He had prevented Maribelle's death at the hands of Aversa and Plegian soldiers, but for a price. I was never going to be able to forgive myself for that. Whenever I looked at his cart and caught a glimpse of him, I only saw bloody bandages.

This, along with the shock and bone-deep exhaustion from the battle, didn't exactly make me inclined to talk. After everything was explained to Zant, he grew quiet as well. Sumia, bless her heart, kept checking in on us, and on Ricken. She brought one of her books to try cheering me up, but I couldn't focus on the tales of brave maidens and dashing princes. I kept getting distracted by the healing cuts on my palms, or simply by my own thoughts. It's hard not to think about how I fucked things up back there. I eventually set the book aside. Miriel tried talking to me about my risky behavior on the battlefield, but Stahl warded her off. No doubt I'd be getting the lecture proper in Ylisstol.

I dozed quite a bit the first day, despite the jolting of the cart. It wasn't proper sleep, but I didn't expect I would get much anyway, after what happened. Like I didn't already have trouble. But dozing was better than nothing.

When we stopped the second night, I waited until most of the activity in camp had died down before scooting to the cart's edge. I didn't try to get out, simply looking up at the night sky I had only really noticed the night before. I tried to lose myself in the multitude of stars.

Was it the same sky as the one back home? I'm not an expert in astronomy, so I can't pick out more than Orion's belt, _maybe_ Sirius. Another thing I had been curious about, but never fully committed to learning. It might be the wrong time of year for Orion, anyway.

Actually, I didn't even know what month it was. I felt like I'd heard May get thrown around while in Ferox, but I kept forgetting to confirm it with anyone. There was too much shit going on. _I wasn't good at keeping track of dates with smart phones, why would I get any better here?_

I managed another doze against the frame of the cart, but it felt like only a minute passed before the _clink_ of armor startled me awake again. There was Frederick, tending to matters before dawn. He scrutinized me for a moment, then continued his duties without a word.

I thought about asking him the date, but I couldn't work my jaw open. Ah. It was going to be one of _those_ days. Great.

I examined my body like it wasn't my own. My coat had opened during the battle, and the tan shirt Frederick had given me was now covered in blood—both the wyvern's, and my own. The front had also been ripped open by the wyvern's talons. I was severely lucky they hadn't gone much deeper. There was still a faint line across my chest that hadn't disappeared with healing, punctuated by a pale "x" over my heart. The scar on my shoulder was getting worse. And the familiar ache of bones once broken was in my leg once more.

So many scars to bring home... if I ever made it.

...Oh, well. At least I was alive for now.

* * *

The rest of the journey back was much of the same. Concerned Shepherds checking in, being stuck in the cart most of the time, and not sleeping soundly. I hoped Ricken had a better time of it. I stopped looking at his wagon to find out. I recognized that I was still in Shutdown Mode, not that I wanted to snap myself out of it. Then I would breakdown and cry, and I didn't have time to be weak.

But if something else didn't make me break first, these dreams were going to drive me insane.

Nightmares were not enjoyable, and definitely didn't let me get any restful sleep. Waking up with fear clogging your throat wasn't pleasant either. The only good thing about those was the fact that I knew those weren't real once I woke up. Until the past two months, I hadn't seen any legitimate magic or dragons. So anything concerning me being chased by monsters or caged like an animal were just random images that spiked my fight-and-flight response for a bit.

The real agony was the parts rooted in reality. Now I had actual faces to put onto those people in my nightmares. Both victims and tormentors. That man who wanted to disembowel me... the woman I had burned alive... the kid mage I had failed. The pain I'd endured, and the pain I'd caused. It would all probably haunt me for the next several months, if not the rest of my life. And the terror of being crushed beneath a wyvern was just a cherry on top of the shitfest.

But that wasn't the kind of dream I woke up from, our first night back in Ylisstol. That would've made too much sense.

Instead, I dreamed of home.

Of paved asphalt and television static. Of ice cream, keys scraping the lock, and hectic road trips. Of honking horns and screeching tires. Of a family I'd left long before I was cast across the dimensions. For some reason, I dreamed of what I had lost instead of what I'd stumbled into in the Awakening World. And when I woke up to find myself back in the castle's barracks, I swallowed the icy disappointment.

Finally properly healed and free to move about, I slid off of the cot, hoping a walk would help clear my head.

Normally so colorful and lively, the castle was beautifully haunting at night. The waxing moon cast its light on the pale walls and muted cobblestone, any activity a mere whisper. It was as if the rest of the world had died while I slept. I had to remind myself that I had seen the sleeping forms of my comrades— _Sleeping, or dead?_ —no, they _were_ sleeping, because I was safe here. At least, for now. Yet the chill in the air made me think of the dark spells that could end their lives. End _my_ life. My arms wrapped around my middle.

I had to stay alive. I _had_ to. I promised myself that I would. That I would get home. And I promised Lucina that I would do everything in my power to make sure everyone _else_ would stay alive.

It was a heavy feeling, realizing that there were some decisions that would force you to choose between the two. In the real world—in _my_ world—I had the chance of dying, yes, but it wasn't nearly as likely. I didn't have to constantly worry about whether I could jump in front of a friend or even an acquaintance in time to stop a bullet.

So here I was, trying to keep all of my promises. I was staring at the canvas of the Awakening World and trying to leave a good mark on it. But it only took one stroke to fuck up the entire painting, and there would be no taking back the damage done.

Like the damage done to Ricken.

My throat shut painfully tight, and I had to stop. Breathing was difficult. I took a few faltering steps before I found the wall... then slid down. I lifted my hand to examine it, acknowledging distantly that I was shaking. I couldn't stay still if I tried. No chance of me writing out my feelings to unclog my soul.

But at least I still had both of my hands.

And then the dissociation suddenly shattered, and I clenched the proverbial shards of glass in my palms. Curling in on myself, I hid behind my knees like a child and gasped.

I had failed. _I had failed._ I was an utter failure.

The tears were hot and painful, my breathing echoing awfully loud in the hall. It would attract attention if I wasn't careful. So I took the rest of my pain and held it tightly, silencing my sobs until my breathing was barely audible.

I had to be strong, I _had_ to be strong, _I had to be strong,_ I—

I wasn't alone.

Someone settled beside me. I stiffened and held my breath. No, nonono, no one was supposed to see this! But they were here and they were draping something over me without a word. Obviously they wanted to provide comfort. I couldn't dare look, to face them and show the disgusting results of overflowing emotions, so I tried to regulate my breathing. Act like I hadn't noticed them. Maybe in time they would leave me alone.

And then, I caught the smoke and the faint scent of herbs beneath it. Zant. The only other person in this castle who would understand the utter despair in my bones from knowing the future but being unable to act on it.

Maybe Kail was already dead.

Another broken sob escaped me, and I gingerly leaned against the manakete as I continued to tremble and muffle my own suffering. I hated this, I didn't want his support—but on the other hand I needed it. I knew I did. I was suffocating inside of my own mind and I needed something physical to chase away the phantoms. So I let him be my anchor point. I hated that I needed one. And I cried. It was done quietly, but with no less intensity than if I had been bawling my heart out. My knees were pressed against my eyelids until I had to shift to dry my tears.

Gradually, they died down to a trickle. In the stillness that followed, I took inventory of myself and my surroundings. By the weight and warmth of the thing on my shoulders, I figured out he had literally taken me under his wing. A distant part of me found that funny. The part currently present apologized to him.

I could feel him shrug it off. He asked if I felt any better now. It was a struggle to respond; my voice was gravelly, from disuse followed by exhaustion and the suppressed crying. After an extended period of silence, I finally managed to croak. "...a... bit."

It wasn't entirely a lie. The pressure was gone. But everything still hurt.

"You wanna talk about it?"

 _No. Yes? I don't know?_

Talking was difficult. But I guess I couldn't stay quiet for long, with what was on my mind.

"...it's... Ricken... It's my fault."

"And how was what happened, your fault?"

I clenched my fists. "Because I... I knew! I should've... stopped him. Should've been faster, been _better!_ "

I knew I wasn't the only one responsible for what happened, but I couldn't get over my own hand in it. Maybe I should've tried to blame Zant for this too. I wasn't the only one with this special knowledge, after all. But it never crossed my mind.

"And if you stopped him before he reached the battlefield," he pointed out, "what would have happened to Maribelle?" That's right, Ricken had rode in and saved the day at the last moment. "Better yet, do you honestly think a few month's time is going to get you strong enough to fight an entire army by yourself?"

Not in a million years. Even with Lucina vouching for my usefulness in the dark future, I wasn't sure I would ever be able to become a one-woman army. It wasn't what I meant... but maybe deep down I thought I should've been able to do something close. Maybe I was still thinking like I was the tactician instead of Robin. But I wasn't the right woman for the job, not in real life.

I grimaced. I knew Zant's rebuttals were correct, but I still felt guilt gnawing at my bones.

"No... but I... I just... wish this hadn't happened at all." And I hate to admit it but, the war was inevitable. That's an unavoidable fact. Even if I hadn't helped Chrom give Gangrel the excuse, the Mad King would've made one. But still, the fact that Zant and I knew so much... "Should I... should _we_ have done something?"

"And what could we have done? Nothing we could have told him beforehand would have kept him away from the fight."

Yeah, that much I had gathered. I told Ricken to stay safe, and what does he do? Lose his goddamn hand, that's what.

"And if you did try to save him," Zant continued, low and calm, "who would you have abandoned to do so? I don't know how it went for you, but if I had left Sumia and Lon'qu, one or both of them wouldn't still be here. So who wouldn't still be here if you weren't right there for them?"

"I..."

That's right. Robin had specifically put me beside Vaike and Miriel, to advance behind him and Chrom. I was in front of the royal sisters. Kellam, Virion, Stahl, Sully and Frederick were there too. I know that Sir Frederick is a beast even in real life, but if the tournament in Ferox taught me anything, it's that no one is invincible, no matter how amazing they are. And there were so many close calls, even with all of us having each others' backs...

And even if I _had_ run off on my own, thwarting a more dedicated tactician's plans, how in the hell would I have been able to cut through that battlefield straight to Ricken and Maribelle? I'm not that physically fit, even with the amount of legwork I've done the past month-and-a-half, and I wouldn't want to tangle with all of those soldiers on my own. That would've been suicide. My good intentions wouldn't have kept me alive.

What had ROTC taught me? Following orders can sometimes be the difference between success and failure. And in this place, with actual life-and-death situations, I do _not_ want to be the cause of any failures.

With a heavy sigh, I came out of my thoughts. Because Zant was right. Again. Damn it.

"I know... I know. I'm just... processing everything." I gestured weakly. "Being here, fighting against the Risen and other people, is a _lot_ different from a game. Which is so obvious, it's fucking stupid, but somehow I just—I was sure I could handle it, or at least not freak out, o-or almost die—what, was it three times? Maybe more? And in the moment I was fine enough I guess, but—I made mistakes and..."

I could've kept Chrom from getting hit by that dark mage if I had been paying better attention. Or prevented Robin from getting an axe wound to match mine. If my magic hadn't collided with Miriel's, we wouldn't have been blown back and separated—I wouldn't have nearly flung myself off of a cliff. Which means I might've been able to prevent _her_ axe wound.

...Fucking axes.

"...the guilt is killing me."

For whatever reason, Zant was determined to be my personal cheer-dragon. "You didn't make a single mistake, Megan." He was wrong, so obviously wrong, but he said it without even a hint of doubt. Almost made it believable. "Ricken has no one to blame for what happened but himself. He could have run away with Maribelle, but he let his pride blind him, and it almost got him and Maribelle killed." That, I could believe more. I don't want to speak badly on a young man who got injured to save another, but... he ran off on his own, to prove to Chrom that he could fight. It _was_ a pride thing.

"You're right... I know you're right. Logically, I understand. It's just... hard to accept that in my heart, I guess." That was always the problem. I sighed again, and gently patted the manakete's arm. "Thank you. I'm sorry for..."

I don't know. But I was sorry for it.

He dismissed it almost immediately. "Don't be sorry. I told you before we went to that battle, you could always comes to me to vent. Besides, look on the bright side. Ricken may have lost a limb, but he kept his life, something far more valuable."

I guess that was as positive a spin you could put on such a horrible event. It _was_ fucking great though. To think, none of the Shepherds died in that battle, despite it being the first real experience of war for all of us. I helped save lives, and avenge others.

I made a difference in this world. Somehow.

"Now, I think it would be a good idea for you to get some sleep," Zant prompted. Man, he was just on a roll, here. I had forgotten how relieving it was to have a springboard for my thoughts, and a supportive shoulder. It wasn't something I'd always had, so I forgot that some people were decent enough to offer either or both. His wing slipped away to let me stand up on my own power, and he soon followed suit.

I cleaned my face as best I could, and tried to meet his gaze. It was hard, but I managed it at least briefly.

"...I'll try. Thank you. And... good night. Stay safe, Zant."

There was a lot of work awaiting us in our future.

* * *

When dawn arrived and the activity of some early birds woke me, I got out of bed despite my body's protests.

I had quite a few things on my to-do list.

The maids had brought an actual dress to replace the ruined tunic, and hopefully they would return my coat after it had been mended and washed. No causing trouble for the royal family here. (But I was getting out of that dress and into a shirt and some pants as soon as possible.) By the time the castle was bustling, I had finished the workout routine I'd done in Ferox. It wasn't much, but it was probably a good idea to get _some_ extra exercise, no matter how much I hated it. The aches from battle may have finally waned, but it meant there were still some things my body wasn't ready to handle yet. I had to work on that. Sumia seemed worried to see me exerting myself so early in the morning. But I assured her I was okay, and took the opportunity to (as well as asking the date, that being the 13th of June) thank her for caring.

"It really means a lot to me," I told her, trying to control the whirling emotions. At least they had calmed a bit, with Zant's support and some sleep.

"Of course I care!" She almost sound offended that I would suggest otherwise. It earned me a frown—well, more like a pout. _Oh no. She's adorable like Lissa._ "Why wouldn't I? You're a Shepherd just like me, a friend, and just a good person in general."

"Aww, thanks! You too!"

Man, it really hit me right in the soul to hear that some of these people cared about me. But I wasn't going to cry anymore! I blinked rapidly and smiled, giving her a sideways hug before she let me be on my way. The Shepherds were all good people. Even the ones that didn't like me. Speaking of, I noticed Maribelle walking with Lissa as I made my way onto the grounds. The princess visibly brightened to see me walking about, but the other was not so pleased. She didn't stop Lissa from coming over to check on me, at least.

"Megan, you're up! How are you feeling?"

"A lot better," I answered honestly. My smile became sheepish as I gave her a slight bow. "I apologize for my behavior back at the cliffs. I was awful, and you didn't deserve it."

"Yes, you were," Maribelle piped up, gripping her parasol. I couldn't help the half-step back as I thought of her unleashing "parasol-fu" on me. "My darling Lissa should _never_ have to hear such vulgarities—especially from a commoner!"

 _Okay, ouch?_

"Maribelle! Really, it's okay!" Lissa suddenly grabbed my hand, clasping it between hers. "It was stressful for _all_ of us. I already forgave you. I mean, you protected me and my sister!"

...huh. Right. I had, hadn't I? Didn't I just have this talk with Zant last night? I kept forgetting what I _had_ done right. The people that I _did_ help keep safe. I was a part of the effort that kept the Exalt, and others, alive. Now I could vaguely remember, when I was in shock, Emmeryn taking my hand and thanking me personally, as she did with the others. Lissa kind of reminded me of her, in this moment.

My grin was sincere, if a bit teary. Damned emotions. "Thank you, Lissa. You're amazing."

Maribelle, spine always straight and pose always proper, tapped a digit on her parasol. "Well, of course! She is a gentle and compassionate lady befitting the royal family! Even a peasant lacking manners such as yourself can see the truth."

I twitched.

 _You know what, I think I prefer Frederick._

Maribelle: Another person not as entertaining in-person as I expected. Or rather, I was introduced to her in The Worst Way Possible. So now her insults were directed to my face, and it was actually kind of upsetting. No one likes having someone look down on them, and I did _not_ want to dwell on the emotions it brought up. I bowed my head again, thanking Lissa for her forgiveness as well as healing my wounds during the fight, before getting the hell out of Dodge. I had more things to do anyway.

Unfortunately, the best laid plans are often interrupted. I was striding down the hallway when Vaike swaggered out of a room and right into my path. I came to a halt to avoid running into him, and he hailed me with a wide grin.

"Hey! Megan!" And that was his arm wrapping around my head in that friendly, bone-crushing manner of his. _I hate being short._ "Listen, The Vaike needs someone to help judge me and Chrom's next sparring match."

The prince himself stepped into the hallway with a sigh. "Vaike, I have something I need to do."

"Join the club," I muttered around Vaike's arm. Chrom gave me a smile, both apologetic and good-humored.

"Glad to see you up and about."

"Thanks! How's things?"

"They're pretty good, actually! I was just on my way to ask Frederick for his opinion on our last battle—"

"Oy! Are ya even listenin'?!"

I gave the fighter a wide grin. "Nope!" I ducked out of his grip as he groaned, shooting some finger guns. "Sorry, pal, but I gotta run! Things to do, stuff to see, people to talk to!"

"But we need an impartial judge!"

"Well, you could always ask Miriel to stand and watch, maybe do some note-taking—"

"An excellent proposition."

Okay, I yipped, and nearly lobbed a spell. But I couldn't help it! I somehow didn't sense this woman standing behind me, and then she just spoke up and _utterly spooked me._ Icy hand over my racing heart, my smile belied my recovery from terror as I mock-scolded, " _Miriel!_ You could've given me a heart attack!"

"An exaggeration. But also quite the apropos reminder," she replied, pressing the bridge of her glasses back into place. They glinted, and suddenly I felt a bit uneasy. Why did she look kind of scary? "We still have much to discuss, after all. Your negligence on the battlefield was most incongruous to the arcane arts."

 _...shit._ That's right. I was still in for a lecture.

I bumped into Vaike as I stepped back, wondering if I could make a quick escape. "Uh, _actually,_ Miriel," I tried as she began to follow me, "I have some important things I need to talk to Robin about—"

"This is imperative for me to elucidate, to prevent the arcane debility that rendered you incapacitated for our journey—"

"I'm pretty sure that was also from the leg thing—"

"—is a treacherous condition, which was exacerbated by your attempts of heroism—"

"Which totally worked, and I need to figure out how and how to be safer about it—"

"Such mysteries will be easily solved, once I have explicated how the negligence of proper casting methods can vitiate the integrity of your arcane semblance, the trauma of such causing untold medical complications such as organ failure, internal hemorrhaging and—hold, madam! I am not finished—"

Oh, there was no way in hell I was holding.

I ducked around a corner and booked it, hoping I could lose her if I ran fast enough. But glancing backwards proved she was still coming after me—and rather speedily, at that. Damn, this woman had legs! Is this the kind of fear Lon'qu experiences every time he gets near women? Because I felt like I was a troublemaker Slytherin getting chased by Professor McGonagall.

Wait. Magic! Duh!

Coming up on some stairs, I turned and aimed a gale at my feet. Just like on the cliff, I went shooting up in a shallow arc, dress billowing. I was lucky to have missed Sully at the top. I stumbled on the landing, but didn't fall, and I raised my fists and gave a little whoop of triumph. " _Fuck yeah!_ " I was getting better at this!

The cavalier recovered from seeing me literally fly through the air, and blurted as Lon'qu took several steps away from the both of us, "What the hell was that?!"

"It was fuckin' _awesome,_ that's what! ...wait, are you two fighting again?" I pointed between the two of them. "Don't make me magic you two!"

"D-don't you dare—"

"Hell naw, I'm gonna get—"

" _That was—a highly unorthodox and reckless use of a spell!_ " Uh-oh, that was Miriel, sounding out of breath and as upset as one could make her.

" _Oh shit,_ she's climbing those stairs fast—uh, I'll be back for you two!"

I made an "I'm watching" gesture at them both, before I bolted again. _Ow,_ okay, maybe I had stepped kind of wrong with that trick.

...but it was _so worth it!_

As is wont to happen nowadays, my luck ran out soon after my minor victory. Most servants didn't seem concerned to see me being chased by a mage, and moved quickly enough not to become collateral damage. Then I sped around a corner and noticed a feline a little too late. " _Cat!_ " Stumbling over it, earning an upset " _mrrp,_ " I ran face-first into someone's armored back. _"Ow!_ "

Holding my nose, I blinked tears away to see a familiar armored man. Unfortunately, not Kellam. (I briefly wondered where he was.) Clearly, my wish to swap Maribelle out for Frederick was answered, albeit at the worst possible moment—especially because Miriel's hand found my shoulder soon after. The mage was breathing heavily, and used me for support. To be honest, my lungs and foot were burning like hell. But I still slipped out of her grasp.

"Were you running through the palace," Frederick inquired with clear disapproval. Did he still hate me?

"Spells— _gasp—_ hazardous— _wheeze_ —"

" _Spells?_ "

His eyes narrowed. Yep, should've figured as much. Robin, who apparently had been talking with the great knight, stepped forward. _Oh thank the gods, someone who will save me!_ I couldn't really put my elbow on his shoulder like I wanted to, but I tried anyway. I more just leaned against him.

" _Hey,_ Robin." The panting sort of ruined my innocent image, if his arched brow was anything to go by. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"You should be resting, you know."

 _Not this again._ But, I had reexamined the concern he'd shown from before the cliff battle, and finally admitted that I had been a downright brat about it. I deserved this lecture, and really, the one Miriel was trying to give me too. ...not that I was going to let it happen. I told the tactician I had been cleared by a healer. "So I was hoping to talk about some magic ideas, if you had the time—"

Miriel grabbed my shoulder again, making me wince. And by the look on Robin's face, he wasn't going to help me wiggle out of it. _Fuck._

"Come on." He directed us both to follow him, nodding in farewell to Frederick. I didn't drag my feet, but the sentiment was there as I stared intently at Robin's back instead of meeting Miriel's gaze. "I _do_ have some questions to ask you—and if _I_ had to listen to her lecture, _you_ do, too."

 _Double fuck._

Ah, well. I guess there are worse fates, in the end.

* * *

We were sat at a table in the palace library, which was sort of a quiet torture for someone like me. So many books I wasn't allowed to read right now. It was mostly quiet, although staff occasionally rushed to grab or return various tomes. I wished someone would pull a Feroxi and just bodily carry me out of this impromptu lecture hall. But, after a rather grueling rant over arcane protocols and sage doctrines, Miriel was more amenable to a discussion on the experimental magic we had done at the cliffs. It was obviously quite dangerous, but the glint of her glasses told me that something had piqued her interest. The same was true of the tactician.

"What can you tell me about that mystery spell of yours?"

"Mystery spell?"

"The purple flames you used to block the slope. They were cold, unlike anything I've ever seen or read about—getting close to them gave me chills, almost like it was leeching my body heat. How did you cast it?"

"I... honestly don't know."

"The spell lacked a matrix," Miriel pointed out, flipping through the pages of one of her tomes. "It was impossible to verify the components of the spell without its incantation."

"There _was_ no incantation, I just... _did it._ "

Seeing my frustration, Robin coaxed, "Walk us through your thought process, then. If you didn't know the incantation, you must've had something else in mind."

I frowned, trying to piece together the muddled thoughts that had blurred with time and distance. "I... well, I know I was kinda panicking, because we had the injured and royalty nearby, and I'd just nearly died. ...Again. I remembered you parried attacks with magic, and decided to use dark—elder magic," I self-corrected, figuring I should use the gentler term in the middle of the Ylissean capital, "because a lot of that school is about willpower. Hexes and curses are about overpowering your opponents' wills."

And in that moment, I'd had will in spades. I think I literally cursed the ground between us and the Plegians.

Miriel nodded, quill scribbling notes. "Then you set it aflame."

"Yeah. I figured the scariest-looking thing would be fire, and it had combined rather effectively before." Never mind that the explosion had nearly caused me to fly off of the cliff. "But it wouldn't last, slapped together like that."

I had been very certain of that. Although, now that I was thinking about it, I'm not sure how. I must've read it somewhere. Or maybe the adrenaline had just overridden any doubts in favor of _forcing_ it to work.

"So I... made it stronger."

"How?"

I sighed, scratching at my forehead right as another servant went running past, bumping my chair. _Ow, now I'm bleeding._ "I'm still not sure. I just—I really wanted to protect everyone, so I just, threw magic until it stuck, I guess. Probably overextended myself trying that, and that's why I started coughing up blood." The reminder earned me another look from Miriel, as if she wanted to start ranting again. Thankfully, she refrained as Robin handed over a handkerchief.

"The electric dome was far more efficient, once a matrix was established. Even with the myriad differences between the arcane colleges and—elder schools," she adjusted her sentence, which I appreciated, "there were particular magical cornerstones that were paralleled."

She was referring to the particular runes that acted as the anchor between her lightning and my dark spell. While some schools used ones more than others, they aren't exclusive, and overlapping them worked in our favor.

"But it wasn't perfect," Robin pointed out. "It took constant attention to maintain. Megan's barrier was dangerous to cast freehand, but it could stand on its own. If we want to use that again in the future, we'll have to figure out some way to meld the two to make the concept more justifiable."

"An intriguing subject to research..."

That quill was scribbling like mad. _Glad to see Miriel is interested in helping me, after the lecture._ She liked accruing knowledge, true, but with her assistance (and Robin to help get something practical out of it) I could find a way to be useful without getting myself killed. Hmm... all of this nerding out was getting me thinking.

"Talking about this reminds me of something I've been wondering about," I admitted, catching their attention again. "Do you guys know of any ice spells?" I vaguely remember a character in some trailers of that new Fates game surrounded by snowflakes, or something. But obviously, none had been showcased in Awakening World.

"Ice spells? Hmm..." As expected, Robin seemed clueless. Even Miriel's frown seemed at a loss. "Can't say I have. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I would think it's in the realm of possibility with—well, _magic._ " I looked at my hand, still faintly scarred, as I remembered the waste spell I had wielded. It held a chill, but that was it. "Some spells feel warm or cool depending on the energy, but while there's fire spells, I haven't heard anything about ice spells."

"That is... an astute observation. The arcane school incorporates numerous forms of energy, but it does not extend to all physical configurations in the world around us." Miriel flipped through several pages of her tome. Oh, was that her mother's? I kind of wanted to peek, but decided against it. She continued, now mostly to herself, "We have incantations to conjure molten rock and restore flesh and bone, but we cannot manipulate the earth beneath our feet or the flow of water with a single spell... Perhaps the absence of such is linked to the ruination and neglect of records throughout history..."

Robin had crossed his arms, tapping a finger as he contemplated. I could practically see the formulas whizzing about in his cranium. Eyeing me, he said, "If anything, I would think _you_ would have a better chance of doing it, if no spell existed in arcane colleges."

"Huh? Oh—well, I guess that makes sense. But manipulating the universe through sheer force of will sounds like a job for a super-sage or something."

...but now I wanted to try it. Could I do the equivalent of earthbending? I knew what _I_ was going to be trying in my spare time.

A woman tapped on Robin's shoulder, and he turned to accept delivery. "Oh? Letters for me?"

She wrung her hands, admitting, "A-actually, I couldn't find who these were meant for, and I was told you're the... Shepherds' tactician? I'm very sorry to disturb you, sir!"

Examining one, he chuckled and passed it over. "Actually, this one's for _you,_ Megan."

" _What?_ " I couldn't help snatching it from the table, wondering who in the hell would send me a letter. I didn't know anyone in this world! Was it someone in the castle? No, it looked to have traveled farther. Maybe from Themis? Nah, they would have no reason to send me anything. Neither would Ferox, I don't think...

Robin got up from his chair, waving the other envelope. "This one's for Lon'qu, so it's probably a _good_ thing she didn't find him. We really need to find a way to work on that with him..."

"Wait, Robin—uh, I have no clue who'd be sending me anything. Are you _sure_ it's for me?"

"That's your name on the front, isn't it," he teased. _Uh, unlike Zant and Kail, I have a MUCH more common name._ I gave him a look, but he only laughed. At least he pointed something out before he left to talk to Chrom. "It looks similar to Ylissean military correspondence."

 _Military correspondence?_ Okay, I was totally clueless. I left Miriel (not that she noticed, so deep in her notes) and found an empty corner of the library to take a gander at the letter's contents. I quickly found my answer.

" _Megan,_

 _Ohai dere._

 _That should prove that this letter's legit - or at least, get your attention. Though perhaps you might want to work out something for that purpose instead of relying on my word choice and ugly handwriting. Also, please excuse the possibly poor quality of this parchment. Paper production isn't exactly high on Ferox's to-do list._

 _It's been a while since we last had the chance to talk, and without Facebook (Eh, Face-Tome…? Doesn't roll off the tongue.) I can't exactly contact you whenever I want. Something you could discuss with Miriel, perhaps? Real-time long distance communications is always going to come in handy._

 _I hope you've been doing well - although there IS a reason why I'm writing this, you know, besides checking up on you and letting you know I'm fine. There's some things you should know._

 _I've been out and about, visiting some villages near the Plegian border. The Feroxi are antsy, to say the least. Everyone's itching for a fight. Some even say there's some small skirmishes here and there, but they could just be opportunistic bandits. Nothing the local guards can't handle at the moment, but personally? Opportunistic Plegian bandits? That's pushing coincidence even for me._

 _At least the Feroxi aren't above accepting Ylissean help, or even an alliance. Just talk, nothing solid for now, but it's a start. They're practical, if anything._

 _Running out of space and time (mind asking a few Legendaries for more of those for me?), so I'm gonna have to end it here. Stay safe out there._

 _Kail"_

He was alive! Or at least, he was when he penned this letter. Still! A knot I hadn't even known was in my chest loosened as I read it a second time. What a dork...

Though, this _is_ some troubling news. I guess I should've expected the Plegians to continue their border raids, but the thought of them finding ways past or over Ferox's defenses worried me. For that matter, how had they managed it back when I first woke up in Awakening World? And to what end, when it's clearly best to leave the sleeping bear that is Ferox alone and keep the war on one front? At this point, it has to be fairly obvious that Ferox isn't turning against Ylisse. And Gangrel may be known as the Mad King, but he's not quite as reckless to tell the entire continent to fight him behind the closest Wendy's. Plus, he has Aversa as his tactician.

Well, first thing's first: I had to pen Kail a reply.

* * *

" _Kail,_

 _Ohey!_

 _You make a good point, a secret code wouldn't be remiss. (Also my handwriting is far worse.) Maybe we could name various Pocket Monsters, like Bulbasaur. I mean, there's several hundred of them, so we shouldn't run out anytime soon. Maybe add in some other pop culture references for kicks._

 _I actually find it a little strange that there isn't already a spell for IMs. I mean, Hermione made that Protean charm workaround. Maybe we could do something similar? Make actual Face-Tomes connected by magic, so anything I write in one is shown in the other, and vice versa? I'll see if anyone here knows anything that can help._

 _It sounds like you've had a lot to deal with up in Ferox. It's been fun here, too. The Shepherds just had a cliff battle at the western border. We saved the noble lady being held prisoner, but a young mage was injured in the fight. He was lucky to lose his arm and not his life. I'm realizing just how out of my depth I am. But instead of crying about it, I'm just going to have to get better._

 _Also, I met my first wyvern! Actually, several. They did not like me. Maybe I'll meet nicer, less hungry ones, in the future._

 _Since I have the extra space—clearly Ylisse has better paper—I'm going to include some notes on arcane and elder magic. And since you're in Ferox, even if they're less magic-inclined, maybe see if there's any mention of ice magic? There_ _has_ _to be some, somewhere._

 _Megan_ "

I sealed my letter with a simple Ylissean wax seal (nifty) and addressed it to Kail through the West-Khan. I had no clue where the hell to send it otherwise. I tried to mimic the appearance as well, hoping it would ensure safe and swift passage.

I thought about handing it to a courier, but decided in the end to find Robin. At worst, I could ask him how to go about sending letters, or have him handle it. Even if he (or Frederick the Wary) wanted to read it first, I'd written it without mentions of future knowledge, and I could probably dismiss the weirder comments as book references.

I finally caught the tactician after dinner. I felt a bit odd interrupting him and Chrom, but they waved me over with warm smiles. I handed the envelope to Robin, admitting I didn't know how mail worked in this place.

"You... write a letter and send it out." But he decided to pocket it, promising to handle it for me. Because he's a saint. Eyeing me, he asked, "How complicated is it in America?"

"Well... not too complicated for letters, you just have to attach stamps. But if it's a package," I extend my hands like they held an invisible gift box, "there's, like, something about putting a number of stamps depending on its weight, and since it won't fit into your mailbox you have to actually go to a post office and hand it over, and... it just honestly seemed like too much of a hassle, so I rarely sent anything."

Because adulting is hard.

He seemed curious but pushed it aside for more important matters. "While I handle that—I'm glad you're here, because I wanted to ask you something."

 _Oh, boy._ Not that I don't trust him, but I always have a healthy dose of caution when someone says that. "Yes?"

"As you probably know, there's been a bandit problem in Ylisse, especially farther south."

"And we know who's responsible for that," Chrom muttered, brows furrowed. He still seemed incensed by Gangrel's taunting at the cliffs. Not that I could truly blame him. I just hoped he could get a handle on that anger.

"We're putting together a patrol, and I wanted to know if you were up for joining." Watching me, he added, "It's perfectly all right to refuse. We did just return from a rescue mission, and while you were cleared by a healer you are still allowed to stay and recover."

A patrol, huh? I looked between the two of them, choosing not to go with my knee-jerk reaction in favor of considering this carefully. Plegia had just declared war on Ylisse, not that they weren't already an obvious problem. While there weren't massive casualties in the Shepherds, I know it wasn't a flawless victory, and no doubt some of the Pegasus Knights received some injuries after that vicious battle for air dominance. I asked them, "Who else is going?"

"Chrom and I are leading the patrol," Robin explained, and caught my faint wince. I know they're leaders and all, but Chrom is _literally_ the prince of Ylisse, and they're both integral to the future survival of the world. But I could hardly stop them. I shook my head at his silent question, gesturing for him to continue. "...So far, we have Stahl, Sully, Vaike and Miriel. I have a few more people to ask."

Besides Miriel, I hadn't seen most of them sustain major injuries at the cliffs. (Although it was a clusterfuck of a fight, so I can't claim I witnessed everything.) It seemed like Lissa wasn't going. She probably wasn't happy, but honestly it was probably for the best. Perhaps she could spend time with Ricken and Maribelle. Since he wasn't mentioned, Frederick was likely staying here with her. Not having a healer was a little worrying, but, well, you can't always afford one with limited resources. Besides, this _should_ just be a patrol.

...yeah, I know our luck. Or at least mine.

Also, I'm not a tactician, but it seemed like they could use another person with magic, both for range and for countering armor or fliers. But _was_ I ready for combat? ...I honestly wasn't looking forward to it. The piercing scream of a woman consumed by dark flames echoed in my head, as did the shrieks of wyverns. There was the phantom pressure of talons on my chest for a moment...

Taking a deep breath, I met their gazes and nodded. "Sure," I chirped, trying to smile brighter than I felt. "I'm game."

They seemed to trust my judgment, at least for now. Smiling in response, Chrom placed a hand on my shoulder. "Thank you, Megan. I know Emm and I are grateful for your help."

"No problem! I'm happy to help."

And I sincerely was, from the bottom of my heart. These people deserved to lead happy lives, and if I could help them do that then I would. But I couldn't quite push away the unease of being on the front lines once more. I might be saved by the adrenaline that courses through me in the moment, but the consequences were more far-reaching than injuries that could be mended by magical staves. Even as I sat on my cot in the barracks, determined to find rest, I lifted a hand to watch it tremble faintly in the candlelight.

Gritting my teeth, I blew out the flame and slid beneath the covers. Even if I didn't find actual sleep, I was going to get as much energy as I could. I had to be ready by dawn to throw myself into this plan of Keep Everyone Alive Goddammit.

.

* * *

 _Again, apologies for the wait, but hey, now we're moving along again! I considered continuing further with this chapter, but figured it was plenty to read already and that you've all been waiting long enough for this one._

 _Another great fic is "Shattered Reflections" by Natzo on AO3 and FFN. It was just updated fairly recently! It's not an SI fic, but it explores some interesting concepts and has great twists on the game's plot and characters!_


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